The sewing machine found a home in the living room where I could sew while hanging out with mom. I finished the last of the strippy blocks, laid them out, and restacked them in sewing order. Today I'll start sewing the top together.
Santa brought me this table (and two chairs) when I was four years old. I still remember coming down the stairs, turning the corner into the living room, and seeing it next to the tree. I don't remember any other gift I received that year, but I know I opened them all sitting at that table.
Mom and dad grew up during the Depression, so they never threw anything away. When I grew up and had my own child, they gave me the table so he could use it. His toddler days are long past, but I still use the table occasionally to display Christmas items.
The little girl inside me cherishes some other wonderful Christmas memories. Every year we went to a place out on German Church Road and cut our own tree. There were three of us girls, mom and dad. Dad knew better than to try to interfere with four women trying to agree on one Christmas tree. He stood back, holding his handsaw and rope, until we decided or he grew tired of waiting. It was either decide then or he'd cut whatever tree was closest. Dad was a cabinetmaker by trade and did architectural drafting on the side. He knew the exact width of the front doorway and the height of our ceilings, but every year we'd have to cut a little off the bottom of the tree so the star would fit on top. He'd just shake his head at us for picking a tree taller than our ten-foot ceilings.
Hard to believe dad's been gone almost nine years.
Whatever holiday you celebrate, may you and yours have a peaceful and joyful day.