The Christmas Bookmark Tassel

I ran my fingers over the chimes
"Good afternoon class."
I said to the twenty first graders sitting
in the three long rows of tables in my library.
"Good afternoon Mrs. Nixon." They replied.
"Mrs. Kramer, the office manager ordered these cute
blank bookmarks for you to decorate for fun.
I'm going to show you how to make a tassel now.
Pick up the loop of yarn and loop it over your
pointer finger like this.
Now pull the knot down and say,
"Knot down, knot down, knot down."'
I looked at the little fingers with their knots down
and said, "Now stare at my finger so hard,
it catches fire and I explode!"
I pushed the end of the loop through the little hole
on the bookmark and pulled it so the bookmark
dangled in the middle.
"Now you need to pinch the loop and push it through the hole."
"Well done!"
"Look up and stare at my yarn so hard it catches on fire."
"Take your knot end and push it through the loop then
GENTLY pull on the knot and down on the bookmark."
Shouts of joy rang through the library as seventeen kids
made a lovely little tassel on their bookmarks.
"Go ahead and start decorating and remember what we
talked about last week. I want to see INTRICATE DESIGNS."
"I'll start the Jan Brett video in case you want to
learn how to draw a gingerbread baby, but you don't have to."
Three kids shouted, "I need help! I need help"
and much to my dismay one little boy was crying.
"I'm coming now to help you."
I got to Simon and patiently showed him where to put his yarn
and he quit crying and I sat the tissue box next to him and moved on.
I got up to Spenser and said, "You've almost got it! You just have to hold
your knot up and GENTLY pull down on your bookmark."
He slowly held the knot in his tiny fingers and pulled down
on the little white bookmark and the loop cinched up
with the tiny tassel in his hand.
A look of astonishment and delight split his face in half
with a smile as priceless as the magic of his childhood.

Christmas at the Pyle's in Bot hell 1982

JoAnn and I sat on the couch
drinking coffee and savoring
Nola's home made bread with butter.
"Keith! It's too tall!" Nola yelled
from the kitchen doorway at her husband.
The top was mashed along the ceiling and
bent over about three feet.
We just laughed as her parents argued
good-naturedly about how to fix the
Christmas tree.
"I have an idea!" Said Keith.
Ten minutes later we heard a roaring sound
coming from the front yard.
The front door burst open behind us
and Keith came into the living room
with his chainsaw blazing!
"I'll fix that puppy!" He shouted
over the engine.
"Keith! It's too short!" Nola yelled
from the kitchen doorway at her husband.
Now the tree was three feet tall.
JoAnn and I followed Keith to the garage
and we each rolled a tire around the front walk.
We rolled them through the living room
and stacked the three on top of each other.
"Keith! It's just right!" Nola yelled
from the kitchen doorway at her husband.
And it was.