On a snowy November day, my daughter Kit and I were going through four boxes of tree ornaments, dividing them between us. Kit, now living independently, wanted to decorate her own Christmas tree. Unpacking the ornaments brought back memories of loss and grief for children who were no longer part of our holiday celebrations.
Our family had grown and shrunk over eight years, welcoming and saying goodbye to 23 foster children. Many placements were temporary, and during that time, our two children were adopted. I was amazed to find out that Kit remembered the stories behind each homemade ornament, even for those she had never met. It was surprising to realize that her holiday memories differed from mine.
As I opened a box, I came across a tree topper that my husband and I had received during our first Christmas together as newlyweds. Running my fingers along the crack in the iridescent angel, I remembered how Krazy Glue held it together, much like our marriage that couldn’t be repaired. I hesitated before passing the angel to Kit, unsure if she would want it in its fragile state. To my delight, her eyes sparkled under her festive reindeer hat, and she happily accepted the angel.
Kit recalled how she always wanted to be the one to place the angel on top of the tree but felt she was never tall enough. We shared a laugh, realizing she had indeed grown since then. It was decided that the angel would now belong to Kit.
In another box, I found a Santa sleigh and reindeer ornament made by an eight-year-old boy we had fostered. He had crafted it from foam blocks and pipe cleaners at a foster family Christmas party in our community back in December 1999. The memory brought a mix of emotions as his social worker’s unsuccessful attempt to make him a permanent ward had led to us losing contact with him. Despite the circumstances, we hoped he knew how much we cared for him.
Sensing my change in mood, Kit took the Santa decoration from me. She fondly remembered how I used to place it near the bottom of the tree so she could play with it. She pointed out the red pipe cleaners sticking out from the sleigh, resembling flames, just like in a movie we used to watch together.
Creating inclusive Christmas holidays for the foster children in our care was important to us. Our family Christmas dinner was scheduled on days other than Dec. 25 so that the foster children could spend time with their families without feeling left out. We started a tradition of giving each child unique ornaments to keep and take with them when they left our home, creating lasting memories.
Unwrapping another reindeer ornament made of pompoms, ribbon, and pipe cleaners, I remembered my son’s playful nickname for them. Dividing ornaments during my divorce years ago had taught me lessons in fairness and equality, which Kit seemed to have internalized.
As we decorate the tree this year, I look forward to seeing my daughter’s joyful perspective overshadow any past sorrows associated with the ornaments. I anticipate a different and heartwarming experience, guided by Kit’s positive outlook.