As little kids grammy and grandpe always had these little tins around the house at the holidays.With the little butter cookies that had the sugar sprinkles on top. They sure aren't anything that you would find in the Willams-Sonoma catalog..and I guess therein lies the charm.I got this yesterday at the grocery store in the holiday section. Having this tiny tin sitting on my drainboard during the holidays always reminds me of those happy childhood days of waiting for Santa. The house all decorated for Christmas. Grandpe always had a fire in the fireplace. Fruitcakes from the neighbors sat in tins on the counter. Grandpe eating a slice every morning with his coffee exclaiming it to be the "best fruitcake Mary Alice had ever made." My grandparents have been gone for many years now, and when grammy died my brother Mark and I went out to the store room and found all of the boxes that held the Christmas decorations at the house in Los Gatos. And as I was going throught it, I thought to myself, why this is a box of just some old dime store ornaments and tinsel. Nothing special...alot of it plastic..you know, reindeers with glitter, snowmen with the carrot nose broken off, socks with stains and holes,the tinsel thin and smashed to one side.Construction paper chains Mark and I had made. A piece of brown paper in the shape of your hand and drawn with crayons to look like a turkey. A bouquet of plastic poinsettias with gold sparkle,candles that had a fake flame on the tip..all melted from spending the summer in the store room .Everthing in those boxes was tattered and old. But as kids..we thought it was MAGIC.Our eyes glowed with wonder and amazement at the tree and decorations every year.And I thought, as kids you don't know or care about what store the decorations came from, how much they cost and were they fancy..... or not. Did they come from places like Gumps in San Francisco or those charming Christmas shops in Carmel? No, none of that mattered. It doesn't matter to kids. It's just the feeling of home and family that really matters. Still does.
the night will never stay, the night will still go by, though with a million stars you pin it to the sky; though you bind it with the blowing wind, and buckle it with the moon, the night will slip away like sorrow or a tune.