When the troops return home, I help carry inside the mounds of food, decorations, and the giant Christmas tree.
Once the tree is up, my niece corners me to explain in excruciating detail all the ornaments she made. By the end of the account, I’m such an expert in felt manipulation I could open a handmade store.
But I have to admit the house looks ten times warmer now that all the ornaments are up and with the Christmas tree sparkling in a corner. Throughout the decoration process, I spy on Wendy. I take in the childlike joy on her face as she hangs the balls on the tree, admire her bright smile as she sprays faux snow on the mantle, and hangs the stockings with her nephew. And I shake my head as she and Tess spend a good half hour engineering the perfect hanging solution for a door wrea
