Festival of tree's

This year my sister-in-law Stacy suggested we do a Festival of Tree's tree.  She mentioned she did one the year her sister died and it was a good healing process.  A way to remember and honor them.  I thought this was a good idea but I must admit I did go into this thing with a less than enthusiastic attitude.  My heart wasn't really into it probably because I was stressed out about the house we were supposed to buy. (That's another story).  After I compartmentalized my stress I focused my energies on enjoying the tree.

  Our tree was Titled Grandpa's hands.  We had each grandchild trace their hand and then cut it out on burlap to wrap around the tree.  We also took a couple of them and tied them onto the branches.  We had the little digger with the bowl full of pennies because when it was our birthday my dad would let us grab from the money jar.  Every day he came home he would take his loose change and put it in a jar in his dresser.  When it was your birthday he poured the coins into a bowl and you got to use 1 hand to dig straight down into the coins and grab what you could. Not scoop mind you but grab, kind kind of like those toy cranes.  It was the perfect system.  The older kids with larger hands loved to compete with how much they could get and the little ones got enough to make them happy.  He would often go the the bank to get the gold Sacajawea dollar coins and add those to the money jar.  

A funny story about this digger with the coin bowl that we learned later was that people kept throwing money into it.  One lady was commenting that she had to empty it every night because it kept over flowing.  This was not our intention but it was super funny to find out what people thought it was meant for.  Lets call it and added bonus.

 I was in charge of writing the blurb that was to go with the tree.  Here is what I came up with

This tree in entitled Grandpa’s Hands decorated in honor of Joseph “Lucky” Wright. 

Grandpa had a motto during his life; his motto was the greatest cure for worry is work.  Grandpa loved to serve others and work with his hands.  He was a master carpenter and taught us how to build and work; patiently guiding our small hands in his large calloused ones.

Grandpa’s hands were always there, guiding ours to perfect our skills. Teaching us to be the best version of ourselves. Protecting us from harm, and working to provide and learn the joy of work. And giving, ever giving all of himself until his were empty. If ever you needed something he would find a way to get it to you or give you his own.

These hands have done marvelous thing in this life.  From holding little ones to show them they are loved, to wiping faces with tears, to building beautiful things, and in the end where we had to say goodbye to these strong hands, all that was left for his hands to do was to hold ours one more time. Giving that final squeeze to let us know everything was going to be okay.