11/30/2025
My mom makes me a wreath every year. She buys the greens from a local nursery and pulls out all her ribbons and ornaments and flowers. She has made wreaths my entire life and ever since I got my own home she makes me a special one. Every year, when she says “what do you want your wreath to look like?” I tell her that I like tartan ribbon. Then I say “but surprise me, make what you like.” As a creative person, I often have a say in what aesthetic I prefer, but I know better than to impose my thoughts here. My mother’s wreaths are always more beautiful when she puts it together. It’s much much more beautiful than I could imagine. She places the seventeen-looped bows just in the right place then builds. She stands back to check, then two steps forward to adjust, then two steps back. She is building one piece and then another. She crafts this endless loop with precision, thoughtfulness and absolute love. I could never make a wreath like this because it’s from her and by her hands. She works her craft and thinks about her family, her children, her parents now in heaven, and her memories of childhood Christmases. She weaves these memories into my wreath. It is built branch by branch with love, sometimes putting in my grandmothers favorite flower or a brass drum, which is a nod to my dad’s favorite Christmas song, “Little Drummer Boy.” Every year I wait in anticipation for this beautiful wreath made by a parent’s hands to symbolize the endless hope and love of our shared life here on earth and those we love in heaven. And every year I am surprised at how much a parent’s heart can hold an endless amount of love. Where God works and weaves love and beauty in our life, we should take two steps back to marvel at what He brings to us in this season. It’s best if we just let Him work, i promise it will be better than anything you or I can imagine. His love, His light, His child, and our hope for eternity. 🎄🕯