Christmas Doilies

CHRISTMAS DOILIES

It’s funny how certain things give us a warm, fuzzy feeling, whether it is something traditional like a special event, or something more tangible like a cherished, seasonal item. Christmas has a way of bringing out the best in us, and each year my mission is to make Christmas memorable. Some years I shower my family with gifts, and other years may not be as affluent but are just as much fun. What we enjoy most is being together, staying focused on what is important and not getting overly caught up in the commercial trappings.

The memories behind these things are what make us value them so.

One tradition in our home is putting out the Christmas décor. The tree goes up, boasting decorations both store-bought and home made. The wreaths are hung, and my snowman collection is carefully positioned on fluffy cotton batting atop the china cabinet. A stained glass Santa sleigh and reindeer provide a centrepiece for the dining room table. Sparkly garlands and bells adorn the family room. It almost feels like Christmas, except for one last thing.

I remove all my table coverings, dust the coffee tables, and get out the box of Christmas doilies. The doilies are a cherished treasure, crocheted by my mother with love and care in every stitch. For as long as I can remember, she has gifted my sisters and I with exquisite pieces of crocheted art, year after year. She labours on these doilies year round, using the finest cotton thread, the smallest crochet hook, and her abundant creativity. With one eye on her work and the other on the television, her hands move in synchrony with the pattern she is fashioning. It is wondrous to see skeins of ordinary crochet thread transformed into creations that make us gasp with delight. The doilies might be square, round, or perhaps intricate table runners in filet crochet, but they are always reminiscent of the season. I take great delight in displaying these works throughout the house on every available tabletop.

Once she made a set of red star-shaped doilies, trimmed with a thin vein of gold thread, and starched to perfection. Another time, it was a set of white snowflakes that looked exactly like the real thing. One of my favourites is a large doily shaped like a poinsettia, embellished with green leaves and a yellow centre. Everyone always comments on it. How proud I am of my mother’s handiwork and the pleasure it brings.

When the season is over, I wash, iron, and spray starch the doilies carefully. Feeling a little sad, I put them away for another year, but know they will be around for a long time to bring enjoyment to another generation. I hope they will cherish them as much as I do.

In passing the traditions to my own family, I am also passing on the love that created the doilies. Because of this, the familiar routines and seasonal adornments provide us with a peaceful and comforting countenance. The Christmas spirit blesses us when we are all together, and I say a prayer of thanks for my mother's loving gift.

The doilies complete the Christmas ambiance like rum sauce on plum pudding. Christmas is just not Christmas without my mother's doilies.

Maria Harden
© 2006

Story ID:	1323
Written by:	Maria Harden (bio, contact, other stories)
Story type:	Family Memories
Location:	Winnipeg Manitoba Canada
Year:	1980
Person:	Mother