We were visiting at my parents house this afternoon. While Mom and I hung out in the living room, I’d not really noticed how Dad and Emi had wandered off in search of the train room. I don’t know how much time passed but I thought I’d check in to see what they were up to. I arrived to find Emi seated at the workbench and Dad, ever the enabler, watching and coaxing her on. Emi had some chenille pieces and in those green bumps “seen” a wreath and a Christmas tree. Some gold thread “borrowed” from Mom’s sewing basket quickly became garland. When I arrived, Emi and Dad were immersed in trying to find a way to glue tiny red beads onto the tree as decorations. Comfortable in the knowledge that all was right in the world, I just left the talented makers in the world to their work and I retreated to get out of the way. A few minutes ago, Dad emailed me a photo from his model railway. The wreath they made hangs proudly on the front of the engine that will lead tomorrow morning’s, Christmas’s, service out of Thrush Green and the platform is decorated with their tree.
I’ve received so many gifts over the years but every year, I realise the greatest was among the first: My parents created an environment where we just made things and did so for no reason or in the shadow of any agenda – we just did. Not only did they make things they overtly did so in front of the kids. We do because they did. It warms my soul to see that this spirit remains as powerful and inviting as ever. Maybe that’s what it’s all about.