As a child, it wasn't Christmas until we went to my grandparents' home in Haddonfield, NJ. There, my grandmother left no stone undecorated. From the mantel to the bathroom, every surface was covered with Christmas cheer.
We always left the day classes let out and arrived at her house for a late dinner. After quickly eating our meal, we kids excitedly decorated her second tree in the back room. She always left one tree bare so that we could cover it with our childish, homemade ornaments. Basking in the glow of the twinkling tree lights and the glow from the fire, we sipped hot chocolate crowded with giant marshmallows.
My grandmother died 20 years ago, and the holidays have never regained the magic that she created for us. Unable to know my grandmother, I'm glad that they can at least have a taste of her mastery.
This year we made the journey north to visit my aunt. Like my grandmother, she works hard to give the kids a magical experience. From the Christmas decorations that adorn every corner of the house to the crafts prepared to the outings planned, my kids have been spoiled by her Christmassy thoughtfulness.
