A few weeks prior to Christmas, my daughter Marilyn invited Chet and me to help decorate her Christmas tree. When we arrived in early afternoon the tree was up and fully decorated. This year she had decided on using a white tree with red lights, red and gold ornaments. It looked beautiful and I told her so.

While making a few adjustments on the tree, she turned to me and asked, “Mother, what is the theme of your tree.”

“The theme of my tree?” I exclaimed while almost falling off the chair. My response was “Anything that comes out of the attic.”

Did she not realize it had been 15 years since I last decorated a tree. All those Christmases had been spent in Texas with Michele, Cemil and my grandsons.

“What comes out of the attic?” she said. “That stuff is old.”

“Exactly, Marilyn, I want the boys to see what Christmas was like for you and your sister. There are priceless memories stored in the attic.”

The Erturkuners were flying north for the “2008” Christmas and there was much excitement and apprehension. This was their first Christmas in Pennsylvania. Alexander kept asking, “Grandma do you think there will be snow?”

“Oh, I’m sure there will be snow on the ground by the time you arrive. If there isn’t, we will go the mountains.”

Plans for the visit were being discussed and made. They would be arriving on Friday, December 19. Saturday morning was the designated time to go in search of a fresh, live, Christmas tree.

In the midst of that conversation, I felt it my duty to inform Michele that there would be no theme for the Christmas tree nor would the house be decorated in a Martha Stewart fashion. Unfortunately Martha was too busy to put us on her schedule.

“You are decorating?” came a voice in dismay. “What about outside? Are you going to hang lights?”

“Michele, not to worry. Lyle is helping Chet with the outside decorations which will be done in a simple, classic fashion.”

“Mother, what exactly does that mean?”

“It means that the Christmas candles that were purchased when you and your sister were toddlers will be on the front porch lighting the way. Marilyn is not too happy about the candles since she said one candle is red and the other has faded to pink.”

Meanwhile, this grandmother and grandfather ventured into the attic to retrieve the Christmas decorations that had patiently awaited the day when they would be displayed and admired once more. Fortunately, I knew exactly where to find the old time treasures.

Making my selections, I handed them to Chet. “Is this it. One box and two shopping bags?”he asked.

“I know what is in those packages (only because the box was clearly marked Hallmark ornaments) and they will do fine.”

The box was placed in the hall for future use while the contents of the bags which held the red bows, Santa hats, and banners were distributed around the house.

The other bag held a Santa’s face with white yarn hair and beard and a red velvet hat attached to a Clorox gallon cut in half. This treasure was given to us by my sister-in-law Gert Manganaro many years ago. It was given a place of honor.

When the Erturkuners arrived one day later than planned due to a major snow storm, a beautiful fir tree emitting a citrus scent was standing majestically tilted adorned in sparking white miniature lights. What a perfect theme!

Came time to open the box in the hallway. Each ornament handled held a special memory. The satin ornament entitled Mother dated 1980, the daughter ornaments beginning in 1976, Uncle Sam’s Nutcracker 1988, the Santa Maria commemorating the 500th Anniversary of Christopher Columbus’ discovery of America dated 1992, the infamous golf snowman entitled “Golf’s a Ball, 1992,” along with many other ornaments.

When the tree was completed a familiar box designed like a chimney was to be opened. It was stared at and seemed unapproachable. Each of us unable to reach out and open the box that held a beautifully outfitted Santa that had been purchased by their father when little girls. It was Lyle who reached for the box to display the treasure.

An old fashioned candy box sat on the television set that had peaked Lyle’s curiosity. The box was opened last. It held the figures of the Nativity purchased in Woolworth’s store on North Main Street in 1947. As each piece was uncovered memories of the 13 year old girl who so loving selected them for our very first Christmas tree danced before my eyes.

There was no theme to my Christmas tree. It was filled with priceless memories of Christmases past immersed in layers and layers of love and the joy of the Christmas spent at Grandma and Gramp’s house with the family.

Maria Capolarella Montante, a volunteer for worthy causes in Greater Pittston all her adult life and a former councilwoman, writes about her memories once a month in this space.

An old fashioned candy box sat on the television set that had peaked Lyle’s curiosity. The box was opened last. It held the figures of the Nativity purchased in Woolworth’s store on North Main Street in 1947.

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No resolutions for 2012

Looking for that Christmas magic

October snow and November days

Celebrating our heritage, honoring our ancestry

August was a roller coaster ride

Thoughts on a rainy day

Happy birthday, America

The merry month of May, and April too

The cousins come home to visit

Where the journey ends