Homemade Christmas

I would have been 5 or 6. This picture taken in downtown Seattle. I don't remember the visit with Santa but I do remember the fur coat that my mother cut down to fit me.
I would have been about 7 years. This was also taken in Seattle at Macy's or Fredrick & Nelsen's Department Store. I also remember this coat. It was home made and had big brown buttons on it. If you look closely at the size of he button hole and the button above you can tell that it was cut down from a larger size. My mother was very frugal and never threw fabric or an article of clothing away that could be used.

Some of my favorite Christmas memories feature homemade gifts. When I was a little girl growing up in the 1940's and 50's, I remember the excitement on Christmas morning when I peeked at the tree to see what Santa had brought. It somehow never seemed odd to me that Santa's best gifts were always something my mother had created! I remember one year in particular, there was a doll bed complete with handmade sheets, embroidered pillowcases, and a coverlet. Another year I received a yellow and blue heavy cardboard doll case filled with a wardrobe for my new baby doll - every outfit from flannel pajamas to Sunday dress and bonnet to match - all hand crafted by my mother.

When I was older, I recall helping mother make homemade candy, fruit bread and caramel popcorn balls to give to neighbors and friends at Christmastime. I'm sure it never occurred to me that much of the motivation for my mother's creative generosity was economic. But because there wasn't much extra money to spend on extravagant Christmas presents, she found another way to be extravagant - with her effort and her love. And perhaps that was the lesson she taught me as I stood beside her making homemade goodies and tying red ribbons around them ready for delivery: time says love more eloquently than money.

Each year I make each grandchild a pair of pajamas. I remember my mother making me a new nightgown or pajamas every Christmas. That was the present I got to open on Christmas Eve. Oh, the warm memories of putting on those brand new soft flannel pajamas and climbing under the covers to snuggle down and wait for Christmas morning.

I think we treasure these gifts from hand and heart so much because it requires a sacrifice greater than money to create them. It takes time: time to think about what might please the receiver, time to gather the supplies, time to create the gift itself. I recall seeing a small plaque hanging in a friend's home that said, "Love is spelled T-I-M-E." And I guess that's it in a nutshell. When I open a handmade gift, it reassures me that Christmas is still about the kind of love that is counted more in hours than dollars. I'm glad I've come full circle and can carry on a tradition started by my mother so many years ago.