Unpacking Christmas

There is something quite wondrous about unpacking Christmas boxes. I am not a decorator - I have very few knickknacky kinds of things in general - but I love all things Christmas. I collect Nativity sets, from the tiniest pewter manger scene to a full mantle piece set of pure white Avon collectibles including the cow ( the cattle were lowing, remember ).
I have cranberry garland made of wood and raw wool garland in both white and gray. I have every Advent calendar that my four kids ever owned and a whole host of other decorations. I even have old fashioned waxed stencils and glass wax to adorn the windows of my hundred year old house with Santa's reindeer flying high in the sky above snowmen lined up on pinky white hills and the star of Bethlehem hanging way up in the top corners of the very old glass above a tiny baby sleeping in a manger.
So, when I say unpacking, I really mean unpacking. We relay the plastic boxes down to the yellow bedroom which we use for a staging area choosing to haul only the ornaments and nativities - 15 in all - all the way down to the living room. There is a box for table linens, a box for candles and candle holders, several boxes of wrapping paper, a box of gift bags and ribbons and bows. There are small containers and big containers and tins full of little pieces of delicate things wrapped in tissue and bubble wrap that all of us have popped over the years and now is really only wrap since there are no bubbles left to protect the cherished items and yet, by some miracle of Christmas, none are broken.
My grandson, almost 11 year old Axel, said tonight that unpacking Christmas boxes is like finding old friends you forgot you had. I would have to say that captures it pretty well as we unwrap ornaments decorated with Snoopy and Garfield, ornaments hand painted by children now grown and with their own homes, ornaments from Gila Bend and the Grand Canyon and from St. Petersburg, Russia and a favorite red hook from right here in Hometown, USA. We have skaters and ball players, puppies and birds in little nests, Big Bird and mice. They are made of felt and plastic, blown glass and ceramic. They are big and small, heavy enough to weigh down even the sturdiest of branches and so light I worry they will get lost in the tangle of lights and I will not retrieve them when it is time to wrap Christmas back up. They are pewter and clay, hand carved wood and mass produced resin. They are ours and they tell the stories of our lives from Christmas to Christmas.
I love unwrapping Christmas. As we lay out each pair of Mary and Joseph, each shiny star, each tattered felt stocking that was made by one or another of the kids in 4-H or Kindergarten, or Sunday School, it prepares me for waiting.
Unwrapping these packed away treasures unwraps my heart from the bustle that is outside these walls and must be reckoned with but does not need to be indulged. It reminds me of how much I love my children and grandchildren and how very much they love me. It reminds me to wait with the heart of a child who does not wait idly, but waits breathlessly for the joy that comes after the waiting is done.