As a child, we had a cardboard fireplace that my parents would set up at Christmastime. We never had an actual fireplace in any of our homes, but this cardboard mockup followed us from town to town and was dutifully put together each holiday season. I don't know why but I really loved that thing—-the printed red bricks, the 3D flame effect created by upward-facing cutouts. We would put Christmas lights behind the fire so it glowed, and all our stockings would be hung with great care along its mantle. But the best part of all of it was that on the night before Christmas Eve, we would all snuggle up on the floor beneath the Christmas tree, next to the fireplace, and I would spend the whole night just watching the lights dance along the surface of this beloved fixture of my holiday memories as I anticipated the days to come.
Fast forward several decades to our rambly farmhouse in the city where we actually did have a fireplace (albeit one too old and crumbled to hold a true flame) ...and a tree...and toddlers. The time had come to make the magic happen for our own children, and I was ready for it. The tree was all set up in the dining room, right next to our fireplace and the kids were tucked in, all snuggled together in their sleeping bags with their stuffies. I put on some Christmas music, turned down the lights, and tiptoed up to bed. Everything was perfect.
Except.
I had not exactly communicated my expectations with my husband before the evening's festivities, and he had been pushing back against this beloved tradition of mine all night. It not being his tradition as a child; he had not anticipated the kind of situation where everyone was displaced and sleeping in public spaces so close to the holiday. But we talked it out, and eventually, he conceded and allowed me my night of memory-making. Unbeknownst to me, however, he had a very special Christmas present in the works—fixing our old fireplace up with a gas line so it could safely hold a flame. His plan was to do all the installation work that evening after I went to bed so it would be ready for Christmas morning. He spent all night tiptoeing with his tools, bless him, around our sleeping children and their stuffies and their sleeping bags, making sure not to wake anyone up, crawling in and out of our crawl space under the house to run lines and build out piping. Miraculously, no one woke up and I had the most wonderful surprise on Christmas morning.
The kids still sleep under the tree every year on the night before Christmas Eve, and we enjoy that beautiful fireside all winter. These days, I put The Best Christmas Pageant Ever on audio and they spread out their sleeping bags, argue over who gets to settle where, and eventually all pass out, watching the lights dance on the walls, the fireplace gleaming in the distance, anticipating the wonder of the days to come.
: ) Cara
Coming Up in CPQ
For five years we have been creating nature wreaths for Common Place Quarterly with the help of homeschool moms and students alike. We have covered all 50 states, and each quarterly has also contained an international wreath. We’ve been all over the world, so to speak! When we sat down to plan Year 6 of the magazine, we were ready for something new. Coming to CPQ in the new year will be Century Circles.
A Book of Centuries is a really fun notebook to keep. We thought they’d make a great next project for us here at CPQ, plus be inspiring for our children to look at in the magazine as well. How fun would a century circle be for end-of-year exams?! We’ll be re-creating some of our favorite pages out of our own Book of Centuries to share with you and will also reach out to members of our readership to contribute. It’s something to be excited about. : )