A Christmas memory, ever so strong

My dad was a carpenter and cabinet maker. I was in high school in 1965, and in art class we were encouraged to design and build a Christmas tree.

I got this idea that was a bit complicated, so I asked Dad if he could help. He got cherry wood and cut and glued and helped me assemble a wooden frame. Then he helped me cut the glass front.

I then assembled my design dream on the inside of the tree-shaped frame. And I applied stuff that dried like frost on the glass.

I got an A+. For a couple decades, I displayed it each Christmas.

Well, life changes. It sat in various closets and wasn’t plugged in for over three decades. The other day, my wife said she wanted to see it turned on.

Breathing deeply, I removed the glass and worked on it and, after a trip to the hardware store, I put it back together and plugged it in. My Dad came to life in my memory ever so strong. I relived our time in his workshop.