by J.T. Waite
Published: November 15, 2008
Remembrances of Thing Past
Whenever I think of Christmas I’m reminded of an old Kodak snapshot taken when I was about eight years old. In it I look like a miniature version of Scott on his way to the South Pole. I am wearing big rubber boots and thick woolen leggings. I have on a heavy woolen coat pulled over my warm woolen sweater. I have a long knitted scarf wrapped around my face like a Bedouin and I am sporting mittens the size of oven mitts. It is the day after Christmas and I am pulling my new Flexible Flyer up a snow-covered hill. I know that it is the day after Christmas, because by family tradition we always went sledding on the day after Christmas.
It’s funny how every family has its own Christmas traditions. Some families decorate their Christmas trees together. Others let Santa do it. Some families set out milk and cookies for old St. Nick. Others just leave carrots for his reindeer. Some families open their presents on Christmas Eve. Others wait until Christmas morning.
One of our Christmas traditions took place exactly one week before the holiday. On that day my mother, my father, my brother and I would clamber into our old Pontiac and solemnly set off in search of “the perfect Christmas tree.” Surprisingly enough, this annual expedition took us to a rather unlikely spot: the parking lot of our local Price Chopper grocery store. Now, living in Central New York, we were not that far from a real forest, but every year our local farmers would bring a real forest to us, filling that store’s parking with freshly cut evergreens of every shape and size. At the Price Chopper in Syracuse, Birnam Wood actually came to Dunsinane. Shakespeare would have been proud.
We had a marvelous selection to choose from, but again by tradition we always adopted an “orphan” tree. That was a tree not quite as big or as full as its brothers and sisters, a tree with more personality than pine needles, a tree that might otherwise have been left behind if we didn’t offer it a place in our living room. I suppose we did this because the whole family enjoyed doing what Disney’s birds, mice and fairy godmother did for Cinderella: magically turn a scullery maid turn into the queen of the ball!
Our magic, however, was very real. It was our family’s collection of Christmas tree ornaments. We had inherited most of these wondrous decorations from my grandmother who spent every Christmas with us. She had inherited them from her mother who had in turn inherited them from hers. These colorful Old World creations were truly magic to us. They were also a part of our family’s history and seeing them each year was like seeing familiar old friends. And each Christmas, again by tradition, we increased our friends by adding one new ornament.
And that brings me to the focus of this month’s article: the G. DeBrekht Russian Collection of Christmas ornaments. For a dozen years now, the designers, artist-carvers and artist-painters at the G. DeBrekht Artistic Studios, following the old school traditions of Russian paintings, have lovingly created an entire collection of whimsically authentic hand-crafted Old World ornaments. Whether you want to start your own family tradition or wish to send a special friend a bit of Christmas cheer, these elegant hand-carved, hand-painted, one-of-a-kind ornaments from are the perfect way to bring a touch of Christmas Past to your holiday celebrations today.
When I saw those Russian Ornaments Collection, I couldn’t help thinking of my grandmother carefully unwrapping the layers of tissue paper that protected her brightly colored treasures, my mother smiling as she recognized her childhood favorites, and my brother and I so proud that we were now the ones to be entrusted with placing them on our tree. And I thought that here was a marvelous chance for our friends and customers to begin their own family traditions. So don’t wait. Click on the Russian Ornament Collection here at www.benegifts.com and see for yourself. Then every year you, too, can have old friends come home for Christmas.