Many years have passed since my days of Christmas on the prairie, but the memories are so strong and dear to me. The sparkle of lights and old fashioned ice cycles..tinsel and trimmings on a fresh prairie tree..family coming in..all the makings of a prairie gathering.
Bubble lights bubble next to the flower petal lights that twinkle from their strands. Out of the boxes come shiny balls of all colors; I love the way the lights make mysterious reflections on them! Felt flexible elves sit here and there as glossy Santas, stockings and ovals make their appearance. Wooden toys hang here and there amidst swirls of tinsel..the tree takes on such a magical wonder as piece by piece these items are hung.
Disheartened at finding the end of the ornaments- boxes are all empty; only the tissue paper remains....one more thing is lacking. Grandma pulls a package from the back room...icicles! Isn't it amazing how they look like one sheet of shiny paper until you touch them and they come apart? String by string we fling them here and there- careful to keep them away from the light bulbs. The final touch is next...the little angel.
With light bulbs for hands and golden hair, the little tree angel glows brightly from her perch atop the tree. I love to daydream about her..make up little stories about her life and her work watching over little prairie girls like me. She is my favorite part of the tree; soft and sweet, so beautiful and bright.
We step back and admire our work; Grandma adjusts a few things here and there being sure it looks 'just right' from the big picture window it sits in front of. I think it's amazing standing there in all it's might...tall and majestic; filled with wonder and excitement. The trimming of the tree brings us one step closer to Christmas and the gathering together of family on the farm.