I was just out of college, and my sister was married and lived about an hour away. Busy lives reduced our time together, but that year we decided we’d start a Christmas project together. It would be fun, creative, and ensure that we’d spend many evenings and weekends together for the weeks leading up to Christmas.
All we needed were pom poms, glue guns, and whatever little notions grabbed our attention.
We apparently had a quite a notion for notions, because in a recent attic cleaning I unboxed so many little extra items from that project that I’d long since forgotten.
Googly eyes, tiny wire spectacles, pint sized metal bicycles and drums and foil-wrapped packages. Felt pieces of all colors. Miniature stings of pearls. Ribbons. Little golf clubs and puppy dogs. Itty bitty song books and candy canes.
Pom poms of all sizes, in various shades of tan and brown. And many sticks of glue for our guns.
Johnny Mathis and Bing Crosby crooning our favorite old Christmas carols from the stereo, and mugs of hot chocolate on the table, we cut and folded, sewed and glued, and giggled.
Oh how we giggled.
Our mother’s kitchen table was our workshop. Like good Christmas elves, we cranked out at least a hundred of the most adorable little teddy bear ornaments we could have imagined. All were specially customized for family, friends and co-workers.
I still have five or six of our custom pompom teddy bear ornaments which lovingly go up on our tree every Christmas.
They remind me of dear loved ones, both living and passed, and they remind me of our special sister time that year.
And the giggles. Always the giggles.