History
“Oh no, it was honest.” He grinned. “What?”
“I never figured you for an Earth nerd.”
“Oh, I had great fun helping you grade papers. It brought back a lot of good memories.”
The next ornament he pulled out were sticks glued together and painted. “Several years in a row I took patients to a drug rehab for ladies. One afternoon, as I got there, they were making Christmas ornaments out of things they had lying around. I was told it was an exercise in using the things you have to make the things you need. Economics 1-0-1, if you ask me. But not everyone views the world like I do. One of the ladies made this and gave it to me.”
Lots of her ornaments were dresses and shoes, “thing for clothing?”
“Not so much anymore. When I first went to college, I couldn’t get enough. At one point in my life, I owned about 200 pairs of shoes. But being someone who worked a job with a uniform, as time passed, I got less interested. I still like the idea.”
One ornament was a white dove in the middle of a red glass heart. She smiled, “I picked this out for mom. It was the last Christmas we got to spend with her. I don’t even remember that Christmas but I do remember picking out the ornament. Hmm, it’s amazing the things we remember.” There was an ornament that looked like a Christmas tree. It was cloth and obviously handmade. “My great grandmother made that for me. I got to meet her once.” She held the ornament in her hand as if it would break. “I have almost forgotten what she looked like.”
“What do you remember?”
“She had long gray hair. And could braid it herself and did every morning. I remember a coal and would burning cook stove with a plate of biscuits on it. I remember a large front porch overlooking a lake. Chickens, that’s about all.” There were five or six wooden ornaments in the tin. “When I first got started in law enforcement, I was a crossing guard more or less for an elementary school. Every year at Christmas this little boy would give me a wooden ornament. He told me that he made them. But I know he wasn’t more than four when he started giving them to me. I had the opportunity to meet his parents, and he did make them sort of. His dad would guide the tools as the son held on to his hands. He was so proud of his ornaments.” There was a bunch of the ornaments that had no apparent meaning, for she said nothing about them as she put them on the tree.
Next was a pair of gum drops, side by side, holding a sign that read ‘best friends forever.’ “My best friend gave me these. She went on to law school when I moved to New York we kinda lost touch. But she did come to my baptism.” She smiled. There was a figurine of Bugs Bunny dressed in his Hula Girl outfit. “I love Bugs Bunny. He is my favorite cartoon character.” There was an angel holding a bouquet of flowers with a sash across her shoulder that read ‘aunt’. “I’m not really an aunt. My best friends daughter picked this out for me. Much like I picked out the dove for mom.” She looked at her little tree and smiled. “Each year I try to buy one new ornament to put on it. This year I have this.” She pulled a house out of a little bag and on the bottom wrote, My first house, 2020, KY. She took the tin from him, “thanks.”
“No, thank you.”
They both set on the couch sipping at their eggnog. He just kept staring at her little tree. “What?”
“Should I put one up?”
“Do you want too?”
He took a deep breath, “no not really. It just seems so,” he thought for a long time. “Lost on me.”
“Didn’t you tell me that the house used to belong to your aunt and uncle?”
“Yeah,” He looked confused. “Why?”
“Where are all of her Christmas things?”
“Honestly, I don’t know.”
“If you ever decide you want to go look, I will be more than happy to help you.”
“Thanks,” he smiled. “I might need your help.” He cleared his throat, “I was wondering if you would go to a Christmas Party with me?”
“Work?”
“No,” he stared at his hands. “A lot of folks around here have lost their jobs in the mines. Several of the churches have pooled their resources and are throwing a big Christmas Dinner for the whole community.”
“Oh, that’s so sweet. That’s what churches ought to do instead of being separatist.”
“There will be food, dancing, and games. I’m not sure what all. But it could be fun.”
“When’s this party?”
“Saturday.”
“Sounds great.” There was a ding from the kitchen. “Yeah.” She giggled, “Have you eaten?”
“No.”
She took his cup of eggnog to the kitchen. With the intent of pouring it down the sink. “No,” he stopped her. Sliding one hand around her waist, taking the cup with the other. “There’s a sup left.”
“A sup?” She smiled.
“A small drink.”
“Sup means something totally different.”
He blushed, “yeah. I know that one. Some of the students use it.”
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