The Christmas Sleds

Originally published in The Laconia Daily Sun ›

The package, wrapped in brown paper, was small enough to fit in the narrow mailbox, leaving enough room for a few letters to be tucked in on the side. When I pulled the box out and looked at the address noticed it was from my Aunt Ruth.  She was a teacher, guiding the penmanship of her young students, so her handwriting was deliberate and careful.  One could almost see the three pencil lines there to guide the letters. It was the week after Thanksgiving in 1984.

The small box balanced on top of the mail and the things I was carrying home from work as I rode the elevator up to the apartment.  The paper pulled off easily and revealed a Red Rose tea box.  Aunt Ruth had collected the small English Wade miniatures Red Rose began giving away in 1967. She kept her collections of “Wade Whimsies” on her kitchen table, with other rocks and shells she had picked up hiking in the mountains and walking along the beach.  For a few moments I was there with her drinking a cup of tea and enjoying the serenity of her home.

Inside the tea box, carefully wrapped in white tissue, was a small, red wooden sled. A Christmas ornament.  My New York apartment was small and I celebrated with our family in New Hampshire, but I always had a tree and had collected a few ornaments.   I smiled and put the sled on the shelf as an encouragement to think about Christmas.

The story of the Christmas sleds might have stopped there.  I doubt if I would have recalled so vividly that first small package if I hadn’t received a sled by post annually until Aunt Ruth’s death in 2014.

Each year one would arrive.  No two were exactly alike.  One sled was created from Popsicle sticks, another from stained glass.  A few were gold and decorative; others were painted a deep red and looked like antiques.   One was fashioned with a pattern that had been embroidered.

Over the years Aunt Ruth would affix a piece of masking tape on the back with the date.  The sleds always found me.  When I moved to Washington and had a grand tree and gala Christmas celebrations. The year I moved back to New York and found an exquisite Christmas tree to absorb some of the grief I felt following my husband’s death.

Christmas was enchanting in our home when we were growing up in the mountains North of Boston. Now I with the collection of sleds my Christmas trees began to grow in size. I invited friends to see the tree and walk around to look at each small sled.  One year Aunt Ruth came to New York and we decorated the tree together.

After 1994, when the sled collection had reached ten I found a Tiffany box to store them.  Each one is wrapped each one loving and packed away just after Christmas.  The box is kept in the closet as I and would never let this box be relegated to the storage room in the cellar.

Aunt Ruth, in her quiet, gentle and thoughtful manner, has created a curated collection of sleds that reflects the joy and spirit of the Christmas season.