On a snowy November day, my daughter Kit and I were organizing four boxes of tree ornaments, dividing them between us. Kit, now living independently, wanted to set up her own Christmas tree. Unpacking the decorations brought back memories of loss and grief for children who were no longer part of our holiday celebrations.
Over eight years, our family grew and shrank as we welcomed 23 foster children. Many placements were temporary, and while still fostering, our two children became part of our family through adoption. I was surprised to discover that Kit remembered the stories behind each homemade ornament, even for those made by people she had never met. Her holiday memories differed from mine in many ways.
As I opened a box, I uncovered a tree topper given to my husband and me on our first Christmas together as newlyweds. Running my fingers over the iridescent angel, I noted the crack between its wings and body. Though Krazy Glue held the angel together, our marriage could not be repaired. Passing the angel to Kit, I wondered if she would want it in its fragile state. Her eyes sparkled beneath her festive reindeer hat.
“Mom, remember how I always wanted to be the one to place the angel on top of the tree? I never thought I’d be tall enough.” We shared a laugh. “You’ve grown enough now, haven’t you?” And just like that, the decision was made – the angel would go with Kit.
Opening another tin, I found a Santa sleigh and reindeer ornament. Crafted by an eight-year-old boy we fostered, this ornament was made from foam blocks and pipe cleaners at a foster family Christmas party in our community. I felt a mix of lingering grief and frustration. His social worker had unsuccessfully advocated for him to become a permanent ward after five years in our care. Subsequently, we were prohibited from seeing or speaking to him. Despite the circumstances, we hoped he understood how much we cared for him.
Sensing my shift in mood, Kit took the Santa decoration from me. “You always placed this one lower on the tree so I could play with it. I love this guy. Look at the flames at the back of the sleigh – just like in the movie.” It dawned on me why he had added the red pipe cleaners to the sleigh. Kit, like our foster children, preferred watching “National Lampoon’s Christmas Vacation” on Christmas Eve over attending church.
Creating inclusive Christmas holidays for the foster children in our care was a priority for my former husband, our parents, and me. We agreed to host our family Christmas dinner on Dec. 23 or 27, allowing the foster children to spend Christmas and Boxing Day with their families. We started a tradition of gifting each child unique ornaments to hang on the tree or keep in their rooms. When they left our home either to reunite with their families or age out of the system, we gave them the choice to leave the ornament with us or take it as a memento. This is how the Santa and reindeer ornament made by our eight-year-old foster son became a part of my decorations.
Uncovering another reindeer ornament, a whimsical creation of pompoms, ribbon, googly eyes, and pipe cleaner antlers, I recalled my then nine-year-old son’s playful nickname for it – “Big Balls!” Dividing Christmas ornaments was not new to me; two decades ago, my former husband and I split our belongings, including holiday decorations. I had assumed that our children were too young to notice the fairness with which we divided items.
As Kit turned the Rudolph ornament in her hands, she shared, “No matter where I spent Christmas, I knew Rudolph would be on the tree, and he still is.” Her reflection caught me off guard, revealing lessons she had learned from our past that I had not realized.
This year’s tree decorating holds promise of a different experience for me. My daughter’s joyful perspective is set to overshadow any lingering sadness associated with each ornament. I eagerly anticipate seeing her decorated tree.