Back In the Box

Back in the Box Empty packages, lots of paper, refolded for another year. Saved, again and again, generation after generation. Traditions, slowly getting too old, falling away, replaced by lesser quality, but surely more in every case. The tree, the needles are all lost. Throw it out? No, it will do one more time, it will be fine. Tiny ornaments, handprints and casts... tiny feet, captured in plaster molds. They still make mom cry, when no one is looking. They have special and unique memories, that get even stronger, as they get older, and the ones around them, slowly move away, or are missing, or even gone. Slowly everything is put away. Another year is put to bed. We look forward, and some, if not all, pray. Angel treetop a special place, I have for you. Not like ever before, you will remain at the door. All year, you will greet, all those that come, to meet