On a Sunday morning...

One of my favorite things about Christmas is sitting alone before daylight

with no lights on except those on the Christmas tree.

It's quiet. I sip my first cup of coffee.

My eyes travel from one ornament to another. 

I think about the person who gave it or made it.

Agne's crocheted snowflakes.

Mom's and my felt people: Raggedy Ann and Andy, the Dutch girl and boy.

Nancy's tin rose and star.

Grandma Collopy's yarn snowman.

Nell's and Suzanne's angels.

The muslin angel I made for Mom.

Joan's sparkly dried starfish.

Esther's hand-painted balls.

Debbie's ribbon ornaments.

Katy's heart.

The chicken with a "Merry Christmas" banner in its beak.

So many memories.

And I whisper, "Thank You for blessing my life with these people."

Christmas doesn't bring my family together anymore.

Many of these friends are gone.

But for this season, an ornament on a tree

brings them all back.