Recently, Barry and I were rummaging around in our attic among our Christmas stuff… looking for strings of lights. We didn’t find any. But what we did find was a small pile of papers tied with faded string. On top of that little pile was a small piece of paper with the year 1978 written across it.

I untied the string and was instantly brought back 32 years.  There were little congratulatory cards for our baby girl, Audrey.  There were receipts for shoes and a dress (I don’t think I’ll be returning these!).  And then there were the 2 masterpieces… one little Christmas-themed watercolor painted by Keith, who had just turned 7… complete with Santa and his bag, a glorious Christmas tree,  little wrapped gifts, mountains, a house and “ho ho ho’s.”  Then there was the completely equipped (scarf, broom and all) little snowman of cut out shapes by Adam, who was 4 at the time.  Barry and I stared at the masterpieces for many moments, bringing us back to little guys mesmerized by winter and Christmas and Santa and snowmen and Christmas trees.  Innocence and fun.  Pure beauty in the eyes and the hands of children.   I don’t remember gathering those little mementos or tying that string that I’m sure was once as white as snow, but I do remember the magic in their eyes and their voices from so long, long ago.

Keith and Adam are now Dads and have children of their own… and Barry and I thought they might enjoy hanging these masterpieces in their own homes.  So we framed them.  We put bows on them.  And we presented them…

And yes, they LOVE them.  Their children LOVE them.  Their wives LOVE them.  It is like a little slice of their lives came alive again, to visit over and over and over, forever and ever and ever. It’s the magic of winter and Christmas all over again, all these years later.

Bless the moment that we decided to bundle and tie those masterpieces with that string.