One of the greatest gifts I’ve received came in the form of a Christmas ornament; actually, about 50 of them. When Mike and I got engaged, the College of Central Florida (then known as CFCC), held a “Decorate Mike and Amy’s Christmas Tree” party, a unique wedding shower to be sure.
We had several connections to the college. Mike was a CFCC Foundation board member and we were proud graduates of the college which, eventually, became my employer after graduate school. We were also an “older” betrothed couple; well, Mike more than I, of course. My fellow college employees wanted to ensure imminent matrimony by throwing us a fabulous and festive shower.
Did they ever.
A month before our December wedding, the college cafeteria’s conference room became Santa’s Winter Wonderland. Bing Crosby crooned holiday tunes on the stereo while my colleagues busily channeled their inner elves serving punch and gingerbread cookies. There was just one request of guests — bring an ornament as a wedding gift.
Every ornament was beautiful and sentimental. Bunnies snuggling on a ceramic poinsettia from my friend Sandy, the animal lover. A gorgeous crystal obelisk from our stylish human resource director, Jan. A Santa Claus from our public relations specialist, Lisa, decked out in a sweater complete with jingle bells, who loved Christmas like an athlete. If holiday decorating were a sport, she’d would have won a gold medal.
Mike and I knew how lucky we were to be surrounded by friends who created such an incredible celebration of a special moment in time for us. This wasn’t a new revelation, however. We knew this before the party. In work and life, we hit the trifecta in friendships. The pine-scented candles on the cafeteria tables was just icing on the cake, or snow on the tree, if you will.
I made so many declarations in my youth — full of what I would never do. Like never return to Ocala or marry anyone from Ocala. Or drive a mini-van. Or work at the same college from which I graduated.
Yeah, about that.
Somewhere along the way, I realized the beauty of what and who was around me. Thank goodness, Instagram wasn’t around. That would’ve totally messed up a young and impressionable me thinking the great beyond was all that, well, great. Instead, all I needed to do was look around at who was right in front of me. Sane, talented humans who worked at a higher educational institution donning red reindeer noses that lit up as they greeted guests shouting, “Ho, Ho, Ho!”
Those, dear readers, were my people.
Luckily, I’ve stayed connected to many of them through the years. And every single Christmas, I am reminded of the kindred spirit of love when I pull out my holiday totes from the storage closet. One by one, I pull out an ornament and whisper a gratitude of thanks for the person who gave me this gesture of love.
There is one ornament that tugs at my heart — a wooden carving of two doves nestled with a dangling red heart beneath. This was from my friend Deb who bravely fought cancer more times than thought possible until she couldn’t. She worked as an administrative assistant, more commonly known as the one who gets things done.
Gently, I place her ornament on my tree, remembering what she meant to me as well as my friends who cared enough to wear Santa Claus hats and red noses to commemorate an act of love which, by the way, they claim full responsibility for. Yes, the first time I met my husband was at a college meeting.
I guess you could say it was Kismet. Or, in our case, Christmas at a very special college.
