With our bellies full and our sights already set on the
joyful tasks of the coming season, my husband and I began pulling out our
Christmas decorations over Thanksgiving weekend. To call them our Christmas decorations may be a bit of a misnomer, however. It’s true that the decorations are stored at
our house now, and it’s true that, for the moment, they do belong to us, but
the real truth is that these Christmas decorations, a lot like many of our
possessions, are what you might call hand-me-downs.
You see many of the decorations that deck the halls of the
Ross house are classic, maybe even a little vintage, passed down to us from our
parents and grandparents and more precious than any brand new decorations could
ever be. Each ornament has a story and memory attached to it, and when we start
dragging all of those decorations out, the memories come with them. That’s what
I love about hand-me-downs. Everything has a history, a story to tell, so that
possessions take on a life of their own and become much more than simple
“things.”
Since I was a little girl, I have lived in a world of
hand-me-downs. Having a big sister meant that many of my toys had been played with before, carried on adventures through
my sister’s imagination and then through mine as well. It wasn’t as if I didn’t
have my own toys mind you, because I did. I had generous and loving parents who
made sure I had everything I could ask for, but I also had parents who made me
appreciate the little things in life, the simple moments, the beauty of
imagination, and the joy and history of hand-me-downs.
To this day, I prefer old things over new. I drag my husband
antiquing all of the time. We search for vintage Pyrex, handmade furniture, and
all sorts of other treasures just waiting to reveal themselves. I love the
thrill of finding something unique and old on a trip antiquing. I always try to
imagine where that item came from, what stories it has to tell, what kind of
people owned it before me. I try to
appreciate the history of something, while also giving it a chance to become a
part of new stories and adventures.
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Even our cats are hand-me-downs. Second-hand felines rescued
from the Humane Society and brought to live among our rag-tag collection of
antiques and uniques. They were all someone else’s discarded trash until they became
a precious part of our family.
I’m sure that each of our cats have exciting stories to tell
about the lives they led before they came to live with us. Just as I’m sure
that the ornaments that Jeremy’s Granny made could tell all about the love she
had in her heart as her hands crafted each one. Or the white oak basket that
Papa made would tell of his love for Coca-Cola and biscuits and syrup and a
favorite grandson that would become my Daddy. I would love to hear the tales
that an abandoned biscuit cutter I bought for a dollar in a thrift store would
tell of delicious meals and savory conversations over supper.
One day I’ll try to write down some of those stories, those
moments of history caught forever in family Christmas decorations and vintage
mixing bowls, just waiting to be handed down again so that the stories within
them may continue forever.
Is your life and home filled with hand-me-downs? Or do you prefer new over old?
