Yule Ramblings #25: The Penn-Made One

And last, but certainly not least, are the ornaments made my our youngest human family member, my five-year-old son.

Each season, he meticulously selects an ornament style to handcraft for his family.

These diddies make their way across the U.S. and grace trees of authentic quality, boxed imitation and fiber-optic drama, ranging in sizes from gargantuan to table top. He always pens his name on the back, stamping his final product with both pride and the year of its assembly.

In past years, his chubby baby hands have helped to fashion hand-pressed clay dials, handprint-stamped red balls, wooden button-adorned trees, tongue depressor snowmen with top hats, cork stopper penguins... and this year: snowmen popping out of stockings.

Now, I've already touched on the meaning of the snowman.

So let's focus on the stocking.

Legend has it that there was a gravely impoverished family, so very poverty-stricken, in fact, that the father could not marry his three young girls. Secret agent St. Nicholas overhead fellow villagers speaking of this family's plight one holiday evening. Brush contact. Proper intel received. Agent Nick was activated. He knew the head of the household was too proud to accept charity. So the cunning agent devised a plan. He would take active measures to plant assets.

The three girls had hung their freshly-washed hosiery to dry by their home's fireplace one evening during Christmas time. Agent Nick monitored his rabbits. Once they fell asleep, it was time to execute a reverse black-bag job.

Agent Nick, in his patent leather red suit, crept along the side of the house. He spider-wriggled up the brickwork, tiptoed across the thatched roof, and backflipped straight down their chimney, landing in full straddle above the family's flickering fire.

He planted the gold coin capital in their stockings.

As daylight broke, the family awoke with pure delight to find their stockings that next morning, heavily sagging with the unanticipated loot. Assets validated.

(Oh! My word. Luckily Good Old St. Nick hadn't filled their stockings with snowballs, similar to the picture above. As a soaking wet floor would've made for a slightly different reception on Christmas morning... Eek.)

The father: Ecstatic. The girls: Married off. Happily ever after: I gather? Mission complete.

Surely, my son took all of this into account when choosing his annual ornament :)

Thank you for savoring the season with me and allowing me to share stories of 25 of our most beloved Christmas ornaments. It was a joy to sit and mindfully appreciate each one for its unique contribution to our holiday. Stay tuned to learn more about a glittery slice of pizza, a bright green hand-painted "Call Dad" orb and rubber Bart Simpson key chain (who defiantly refuses to hang face-forward on our tree!)

...But those stories must wait until next year :) Happy Holidays to you and yours.