Monday, December 23, 2013
Beginning more than twelve years ago one of my students began gifting me with wooden nutcrackers at Christmas. We had talked about and listened to the music of Tchaikovsky in class and he thought I would like a nutcracker of my own. He was right. Over the next several years he, and others, continued the tradition. As a result I am now the proud owner of at least fifteen nutcrackers of different sizes and types.
Last week Zane and I finally located the box that has been their home for the past three years or more. He played with them all day and now I find them everywhere. During the evening when the electricity was off, the guy pictured above stood watching over the lamps. Right now, a different one in white tights, black boots and a snappy red and white jacket is staring at me from beside my computer. He is unarmed, thank goodness, because he looks pretty fierce.
The best part of finding these little guys again is that written on the bottom of each one is the name of the child that gave him to me and the year they were gifted. I read those dear names and the face of that child pops into my mind. I know those children are fully grown now and off into lives of their own, but I remember them as they were on the day they held the beautifully wrapped box up to me and stood smiling as I lifted the little wooden nutcracker out of the tissue paper. What a wonderful Christmas surprise for me...again.