The Reindeer Keeper

We all have our ways of decorating the Christmas tree. My way begins with bringing down the box that holds many of the decorations. It’s an old box. It once held a VCR made by RCA. At the time, it was an exciting gift for the family. I should retire the box. I know there are better ways to store the decorations but I’ve yet to make the move. You see, that old box has become a part of the tradition of trimming the tree. After all, it has the responsibility of holding the decorations all year long. And most of those decorations are priceless-not in the money sense of the word. Rather, in the memory sense. They each tell a story of a time or a place in our family history. When I was first married, I bought a paint-by-number Christmas kit holding small wooden Christmas decorations complete with a small hole for the string to hang them on the tree and little plastic containers with the paint and two paint brushes. I started painting them late in the season. When Christmas came aroun...

I own a Picasso! It came in the mail-exquisitely drawn on a card with smiling pumpkins on the front. I know why my little Picasso chose that particular Grandparent's Day card. It was those pumpkins! You see, this little Picasso and I wander about the gardens out back. They are full of pumpkins of all sizes-some are still green-some a vibrant orange-all still on gnarly vines with picky leaves. They're so picky that she'll pull her dimpled hand back and ask me to move those big, ugly, prickly leaves out of the way so she can squat down and pat each one-big or small. And as she is patting them ever so gently in their beds of soil or grass she quietly talks to them, telling me to be quiet because they are sleeping. "Shh Gra-Gra! Shhh," she will say to me in a concerned tone with her finger to her lips. Then whispering in a little voice sounding more like a chorus of angels, she tells each pumpkin she touches how pretty it is-how nice i...