by Noella Noelophile®
(Royalty-free image by Gerald Friedrich from Pixabay.)
Family Christmases were the best.
Every December, we would travel from our home in New York to my grandmother’s in Wilmington, Delaware. Taking the train from New York’s Penn Station started the adventure.
The train would wend its way through what was usually a very snowy landscape. Once we pulled out of Newark, New Jersey, it felt like we were well and truly on our way.
If we traveled after dark–which was usually the case–Christmas lights showed up all along the way. Going through Pennsylvania, we’d always look for the giant lighted white star atop Bethlehem Steel.
“TRENTON!,” the conductor would announce. Then, “NO-O-ORTH PHILADELPHIA!”
(It was time to start getting the bags ready.)
“PHILADELPHIA! Philadelphia.”
(Get your coat on, we’re getting up when the train starts up again…)
“WI-I-ILMING-TONNN! WILMINGTON!”
And off the train we went, in a flurry of suitcases.
“There they are!”
And there, indeed, on the vintage low platform of Wilmington’s Penn Station, would be the relatives come to meet us. A series of hugs and kisses followed, a lively discussion of our travels and updates on the latest Wilmington happenings ensued as we headed to the car.
I remember driving past the rows of downtown townhouses, with the lighted life-size choirboys or tall lighted plastic candles standing on the porches. We’d proceed up Kirkwood Highway until we turned off at my grandmother’s house.
And there she was, smiling and hugging–my Grandmother Todd. With an extra hug for her youngest granddaughter.
We would spend Christmas week, right through New Year’s Day, with her.
(Royalty-free image by PeaceLoveHappiness from Pixabay.)
I can still see the fresh snow out the side window of the upstairs bedroom, swirling around the base of the dark-green pine tree. And feel the warmth of pre-Christmas mornings as we sat in the kitchen, having breakfast, catching up and listening to the radio.
To this day, I feel the icy temperature of Mom-Mom Todd’s pantry, where she’d stored tins of cookies, fudge and peanut-butter fondant for the big day. The scent of pine takes me back to her backyard, decades ago, to that tall pine with its snow-covered branches.
(Royalty-free image by Slava Sidorov from Pixabay.)
And a certain doorbell sound will always evoke the laughter of family arriving on the big day, shedding coats, stamping snow off their boots and depositing packages under the tree and all kinds of homemade jams, side dishes and desserts in the kitchen.
As children, we just think the enchanting elements of Christmas appear by magic.
But perhaps the real magic happens when we get taller. (Notice, I didn’t say, “grow up”. I’m not sure I ever did!)
And that’s when we can start to make things magical.
(Royalty-free image by Frauke Riether, from Pixabay.)
As the year “ripens” into late October and another season of Noelophile® posts begins, what are the elements of magic you most want to create? And are they baked, stitched, lovingly shopped for, written or otherwise?
You (and I) have about six weeks till December, to come up with an answer.
May this season be especially merry and festive, whatever your blend of magic.