A license for creativity.
Justin my youngest and most sentimental were at odds with the sparseness of choice in this year's Christmas tree. Tho' this 17ft. Noble fir graced the ceiling it's stretch left to much trunk space for Justin's liking's. He was moping around and saying, Mom, this just won't work. It's ugly. Our church family happily climbed ladders, hanging lights, draped metallic ribbons and hung snowflakes precisely with fishing line. This 17ft. footer, went through a transformation, from a Charlie Brown tree into a glorious platform for a giving season. Justin was reluctantly changing his mind.
Just when I thought the battle had turned my musician son, Jacob strolled into the great room, arms filled with his prized decor treasures and stuffed a white 1955 Oregon License plate in the best focal place between the branches. A Memory was born. We all rolled with laughter at the perfection that something so out of place could nestle into a great conversation piece. The joy finished the transformation.
Yesterday, I was placing that same license plate into my lush, flocked, perfectly "coiffed" Christmas tree and took a picture sharing it on facebook so my Marine son Joseph could enjoy the chuckle of the family from his station in North Carolina. In the comments, I said:
"Some of the most precious Christmas memories get birthed from the creative hand of your children. "Yes Virginia, the Wambach's have a 1955 license plate in their Christmas tree.
Right Jacob? "
My husband Don said: Who's Virgina? Another comment even mentioned that it was a Virginia license plate. A perfect set up for this Christmas blog post.
This is the story of Virginia
We take pleasure in answering thus prominently the communication below, expressing at the same time our great gratification that its faithful author is numbered among the friends of The Sun: