On a snowy November day, my daughter Kit and I sorted through four boxes of tree ornaments, dividing them between us. Kit, now living independently, wanted to decorate her own Christmas tree. Unpacking the decorations stirred up years of sorrow and memories of children no longer present during the holidays.
Over the years, our family grew and shrank as we fostered 23 children. Many placements were temporary, and during that time, our two children were adopted. I was amazed to discover that Kit remembered the stories behind each homemade ornament, even from makers she had never met. It was surprising to find out that her holiday memories differed from mine.
As I opened a box, I came across a tree topper my husband and I had received during our first Christmas together. Running my fingers over the cracks in the iridescent angel, held together by Krazy Glue, I reflected on our failed marriage. Passing the angel to Kit, I wondered if she would want it given its fragile state. Her eyes sparkled beneath her festive reindeer hat as she eagerly accepted it.
Reminiscing, Kit shared how she always wanted to be the one to place the angel on top of the tree but thought she was never tall enough. We laughed together, realizing how much she had grown. Ultimately, the angel found its new home with Kit.
In another tin, I found a Santa sleigh and reindeer ornament made by an eight-year-old boy we once fostered. The memory brought a mix of lingering grief and frustration over not being able to stay in touch with him after he left our care. Kit noticed the change in my mood and took the ornament from me, recalling how I always placed it near the bottom of the tree for her to play with.
Our family always strived to make the holidays inclusive for the foster children we cared for. We adjusted our Christmas dinner dates so that they could spend time with their families on the main days. We started a tradition of buying unique ornaments for each child, giving them the choice to keep it with us or take it with them when they left our home. This practice led to the Santa and reindeer ornament made by our foster son becoming a part of my collection.
Unwrapping another reindeer ornament, crafted with pompoms and pipe cleaners, brought back memories of my son’s playful nickname for them. Dividing Christmas ornaments was not new to me, as I had experienced it during my divorce years ago. Kit’s heartfelt words about Rudolph being a constant in her Christmas memories touched me deeply, showing me the valuable lessons she had learned from our past.
This year, decorating the tree feels different, as Kit’s joyful spirit and reflections overshadow any lingering sadness I associated with the ornaments. I eagerly anticipate seeing her decorated tree this Christmas.