The Stockings Were Hung

When I was small, one of my favorite parts of Christmas was getting out my one very own ornament & my stocking. They were the two decorations that had my name on them. In the mix of things, they were mine. Allllllll mine.

Then, my mom started making stockings for everyone. Some were knitted, some crocheted, and some were stitched using counted cross-stitch. All were beautiful, and more importantly, all were different. Each pattern was chosen with the recipient in mind. Holly, whose nickname was Holly-Bear, had a red stocking, knitted, with a bear design. The bear was holding a sprig of holly. Mom made a stocking for each of her four kids, each of her four kids-in-law, and every single one of her grand kids. All 13. That would be 21. She also made a few as gifts, I believe.

Then, the tragedy of cancer entered in. Mom never met her last two grandchildren, numbers 14 & 15. That would be my Things 1 & 2. So we have dug around all these years, using old pet stockings and extras that were gifts for the older two. I kept thinking I would make them one, so theirs would be homemade, too. Last year was attempt #1. It was ok, but not just what I wanted. I only had one stocking, too. And by the time I finished it, I wasn't up for another one. Each year about this time I think about it, and either I get new ideas, or I have no hope of accomplishing the task in time for this year. Regardless, at ages 11 & 13, my Things remain stockingless. Until now.

Today, I ordered The Things stockings from Pottery Barn. No, they are not homemade. But they will have their names on them.

For Thing 1:



For Thing 2:



As much as I would love to, I'll never be able to make them a stocking from my mom. It's just one of those things that happens in life. Some day, maybe I'll make them all stockings. Maybe not. But at least now, they have their very own stockings, that are not hand-me-downs from siblings, (or worse yet, pets), and I don't have to cringe when we hang them up on Christmas Eve.

No, Christmas isn't about the stockings. It's about Jesus. It's also about family. Each year when we get out those stockings we talk about their Grandma and how much she loved them and how proud she would be of each of them. We remember how she always had Pringles and gum and lots of love and hugs for her grandchildren. We wonder just what stockings she might have made for The Things. Then we laugh, because she would have laughed. She knew how much it meant to have something that was just yours, with your name on it. She would be glad those Things finally have stockings.