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Drama: December 07, 2010 Issue [#4122]

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Drama


 This week: A History Tree
  Edited by: Fyn Author IconMail Icon
                             More Newsletters By This Editor  Open in new Window.

Table of Contents

1. About this Newsletter
2. A Word from our Sponsor
3. Letter from the Editor
4. Editor's Picks
5. A Word from Writing.Com
6. Ask & Answer
7. Removal instructions

About This Newsletter

“The ornament of a house is the friends who frequent it.”~~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Happy, happy Christmas, that can win us back to the delusions of our childish days; that can recall to the old man the pleasures of his youth; that can transport the sailor and the traveler, thousands of miles away, back to his own fire-side and his quiet home! ~~Charles Dickens, The Pickwick Papers, 1836

The best of all gifts around any Christmas tree: the presence of a happy family all wrapped up in each other. ~~Burton Hillis

Christmas is forever, not for just one day,
for loving, sharing, giving, are not to put away
like bells and lights and tinsel,
in some box upon a shelf.
The good you do for others is good you do yourself...
~~Norman Wesley Brooks, "Let Every Day Be Christmas"

Heap on the wood!
The wind is chill;
But let it whistle as it will,
We'll keep our Christmas merry still.
~~Sir Walter Scott


Word from our sponsor



Letter from the editor

Thinking back on the comments I received on my For Authors Newsletter of last week, and as we had a Christmas party on Saturday, I decided, (as I had a ready made group of folks to ask) to ask people if they had a special ornament on their tree. As the eggnog flowed, so did the stories. I found it illuminating to hear the differing stories from different members and generations of the same family.

It was one of those parties that included three out of five of our blended kids, their spouses and children, my sister-in-law and her hubby, our neighbors and a few friends whom we've known so long that we consider them 'family.'

'Special ornament' status morphed as adult children had stories from when they were kids and then newer stories from after they were married. I started by asking the long term friends and neighbors because I thought
I already knew the answers my kids would give.

So grab a chair or a piece of floor, help yourself to some eggnog and listen in. . . to just a few of the stories. . .

Eileen-aged 76--I remember an ornament we had on our tree when I was a child. This would have been in, oh, 1944, it was during the war (WWII) and it was my grandfather's ornament that had been brought from Germany in the 1800s. My mother always had it wrapped in layers upon layers of cloth and packed it away each year in its own special box.

It was made of cut glass and was an elongated star. It didn't matter where on the tree my mother put it, it always caught the light and glowed. I remember thinking that it must have been magic because of that glow. The sunlight would make it throw rainbows all over the front room.

My father wouldn't let my mother put it on the tree that year, because, back then, anything from Germany was forbidden because of the war. To me, that year the tree lost its magic. Times were rough, far worse than now even, and I remember being afraid that Christmas couldn't happen if that ornament wasn't on the tree. I begged and pleaded with my father that it had to be on the tree. He told me that Christmas wasn't about ornaments on a tree. I knew that, but still. . .

It was very late Christmas Eve and after we returned from church, and I was supposed to be in bed, Momma came and got me and together we unwrapped the star. We tucked it around in the back of the tree. I didn't care; it was 'on' the tree and I was happy. The next morning, it still caught the sunlight and glowed. My father saw the rainbows and just shook his head and smiled; he knew he'd been out-maneuvered by Momma.

Danny-age 5--Gramma, is that the broken star on your tree with some of the points missing? The one that always makes you cry? You let me put that one of your tree this year and I put it right in the front!

Tammy-age 30-ish and holding Danny in her lap,--Gee, Mom, I never knew that. (a shared Mom-daughter look)

The most special one on our tree is the one Daddy carved for me, that last one before he passed away. You know, that carousel horse that he never quite got finished. I love that one.

*Ornament4R**Ornament4R* *Ornament4R*


Char-age 50--We'd be here all night if I told you about all of ours. I think I have every ornament the twins ever made and now all of my grandchildren's too. They are all so special. I do love the one you gave me a few years back, Robin; That one you gave me when you wanted to give me something for Christmas, but didn't have the money to buy something? Knowing it had been on your tree all those years and now is on mine, that is very special!
*Ornament4R**Ornament4R* *Ornament4R*


Dave-mid 30s from next door--I've got an ornament story. There was always one that looked like a small box that had been wrapped up, complete with a red ribbon. When I was little, my mom always hung it on the tree and I always wanted to know what was inside it, because it never got unwrapped on Christmas. Mom would never tell me.

One year, after I'd been out on my own for a while and she came to visit, I noticed it hanging on the tree. The paper had been changed and now the ribbon was green, but I knew it was the same one. My kids saw it and wanted to know what was inside. I couldn't tell them; I didn't know. I told them it was a Christmas treasure.
(He looked to make sure his kids weren't in the room.) Last year, I gave in and the night I took down the tree, I unwrapped it.

Inside the box was a glass heart and two folded notes. One was dated 1897! It said: This is the heart of Christmas. Never forget and always be sure your heart is on the tree and in the right place. This note stays in the box forever. The other was from my grandmother and said that whoever opened the box needed to replace her note with one of their own, to tell the next person that got the box and couldn't resist opening it. My mom had never opened it. Took me a few years to tell her that I had. She just smiled when I did.

*Ornament4R**Ornament4R* *Ornament4R*


My youngest daughter-aged 26--Mom, we have a box like that on our tree! Do you know what's in ours? Grammy always said it was for 'Christmas Present, Past and Future all rolled into one.'

Me: (I just shrugged and smiled. But I peeked years ago, and it is roughly the same thing. I probably should give each of my kids a box one of these days!)

My youngest daughter--I still have my purple one I put on Mom's tree every year. I don't remember when it became 'mine' or even when it did. I just remember it always being my special one to hang. Where is it anyway, Mom? I need to put it on the tree!

My eldest daughter-aged 33--I remember the first Christmas I was with my husband and we didn't have much for the tree. You let me pick and choose the ones I wanted as we were taking down the tree: Grammy's Christmas mouse, my blown glass unicorn, Bob-bob's stained glass star, and the reindeer we made from clothespins. You wouldn't let me take that one though (she said pointing at a falling apart, gold painted angel.)

Me--Maybe next year. That one was my grandmother's and it came from Ireland with her grandfather. When they came to the US from Ireland in the 1800s, they could only bring what could fit in one trunk. There wasn't room for anything extra beyond their clothing and food for the trip. It was light, and flat and wouldn't take up much room so that's the one they brought.

Youngest daughter--That came in Annie's trunk? The one from your poem? (she said, pointing to my grandmother's grandfather's trunk under the window.)

Me--It sure did. Other special ones now, aside from recent ones, are the ones mom loved; the elf which was one Bob-bob gave her and her long dangly ones. They don't really have a story, but I'll always remember them hanging on her tree.

Youngest daughter--My boyfriend gave me one last year that is very special. It has a real sprig of pine inside a glass ball. He said our love was like that pine branch and would be ever green.

Me-- He's a keeper! I remember one shaped like a barbell. It was my dad's when he was little. He said it was the first present he remembered giving to his mom. It broke years ago, but I remember when all my fingers could wrap around the narrow part. As I got older and it turned from red to a worn silvery color, and less and less fingers could fit. Finally, I had to hold it with my thumb and forefinger. It isn't on the tree anymore, but then again, it always is!

My eldest's youngest-age 8--I like all the ornament stories, Grand.(She turns to her mother.) Her tree is like a her-story tree. Oh! I get it; Our trees are history trees!


*Ornament4R**Ornament4R* *Ornament4R*






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Ask & Answer

Comment from my last Newsletter...
from Shannon Author IconMail Icon:AWESOME job, fyn! I couldn't agree more: The most valuable resource you have as a writer is you. "I take bits and pieces of who and what I am, toss them in a blender and use what floats to the top." BRILLIANT!

Thanks *big smile* As per today's newsletter...the bits and pieces of our lives can go far to flesh out a character and add muscle to who and what they are made of!

frommARi☠StressedAtWork Author IconMail Icon:I definitely like this topic!! I do hope I can write like that-- making others believe that I've experienced something because they can feel it in my words... even if "it" isn't my personal experience at all. *Smile* (There are a few reviews I've received regarding my pieces about abuse & bi-polar where the readers thoughts I suffered because of how I expressed them... I'm really happy receiving reviews like that!! *Heart*) ~mARi~

Yes, it means we have succeeded at what we attempted. I love leaving the occasional reader to wonder if 'that really happened...or...'

from atwhatcost:I'm with you - everything I write has a bit of me in it, even when the characters are my exact opposite. Then again, that's where I had to stop in a novel I was trying to write. My narrator, and one of two protagonists, was so much of me that I'm having trouble placing me in the story. It is a fictional story of a real event in my life. I chose to write it from another viewpoint. Now I can't figure out how to separate the narrator from the real me. Any suggestions?

Take a step back, imagine how an other person would see you, what their perceptions might be. This will give you enough distance to let other parts of the 'you' come into focus! Hopefully this should help!

from Mara ♣ McBain Author IconMail Icon:Excellent NL! You made some really good points!

Ah, thank you!

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