1897

Although he supported himself and his family with his work keeping the city trams up and running, Daniel Branson's passion was woodworking. He had turned the shed in the back yard of the Branson home into his work shop. He repaired old furniture and even built some smaller pieces of furniture to earn extra money but he was limited by the tools he could afford as well as the raw materials. Much of the work he did using discarded pieces of furniture or wood that he'd find and bring home. From these materials he'd make intricately carved small wooden boxes or toys or as he was doing now Christmas ornaments.

"So what shape do you want?" Daniel asked his six year old son Tommy.

Tommy stood there in the workshop, rubbing his hand on his chin while he thought about it. He wanted something extra special for his mother but he had to admit he wasn't quite sure what that would be.

"A circle or triangle or maybe star shaped" Daniel suggested.

Tommy shrugged in shoulders. None of those things sounded quite special enough. His mind was churning with those things associated with Christmas: angels, bells, wreaths, mangers, the wisemen, camels.

"I want something that says Christmas" Tom finally responded.

Daniel peered at his son. "You just want to write Merry Christmas on a block of wood?"

Tommy inhaled deeply. "No Da. I want something that she'll know is part of Christmas like an angel or a manger or the wisemen."

Daniel shook his head, this was going to be more complicated than he thought and certainly beyond Tommy's capabilities.

"Since this is your first try son how about we do something fairly easy? How about something that is a pretty shape and we paint it like those pretty glass ornaments?" Daniel suggested.

After mulling this over Tom finally agreed. Under his father's guidance, and more than occasional help, Tom crudely chiseled and carved the piece of wood into something vaguely resembling a snowflake. After Daniel ensured that Tom had sanded all the rough edges, he pronounced it ready to paint. Here again Tom had a hard time deciding on what color to use until he came up with the idea to use all the different colors to make something bright and colorful.

It was definitely a one of a kind ornament but his mother was thrilled as only mothers can be. To Moira Branson it was beautiful and she treasured it.

1899

The package came from their Grandmother in New York. Nestled among the brightly wrapped boxes that were to be opened on Christmas day, were three smaller boxes with a note to be opened now. Although her sisters took care to open their boxes without tearing the wrapping paper, three year old Lady Sybil Crawley tore open her elegantly wrapped box destroying not only the paper, which was now in small bits and pieces scattered on the floor around her, but much of the box itself.

Sybil gasped when she saw the shiny large silver bell laying on the blue velvet lining. "It's beautiful" she pronounced as she pulled it out of the remains of the box. That it jingled as she pulled it only made her more delighted.

Swinging it by its red velvet ribbon, Sybil giggled as the bell jingled. She'd make one large swoop of the ribbon, then she'd shake it as fast as she could.

"Sybil dear it's not a toy but an ornament for the tree" Cora injected. She loved her youngest daughter's exuberance and hated to curb it but sometimes she had to.

Cora reached for the bell. "See here" Cora pointed with her index finger "it's engraved with your name S…Y…B…I…L."

Sybil ran her little fingers on the engraving.

Much to Sybil's displeasure, her mother insisted Sybil hang the bell on the tree.

"But I want to hear it" she insisted and it was with great reluctance that she finally hung the ornament on the tree.

If Cora had later looked carefully at the tree, she might have noticed the silver bell ornament was no longer hanging there.

1903

As he did most mornings, Robert was at his desk in the library attending to his correspondence. The stillness of the room was suddenly shattered by seven year old Sybil who scampered into the room.

Coming to a stop beside her father she blurted out "Papa. When are you going to put up the Christmas tree?"

"Now Sybil you know we put the tree up around the 20th."

"But Papa that seems so late. I think now would be a good time." It took all his willpower not to chuckle at her seriousness.

"You do?"

Sybil vigorously bobbed her head up and down.

"But it just turned December yesterday" Robert replied.

"Well when something is so beautiful we should have plenty of time to enjoy it."

Robert lifted Sybil off the floor and sat her on his lap. "If we cut it too early it will dry out and shrivel by the time Christmas gets here. You wouldn't want that would you?"

Sybil shook her head no but Robert could tell she was disappointed.

"It's a big decision to pick the right tree. What if this afternoon we go looking at trees and see what our choices are?"

Sybil brightened at the idea.

"We can't chop it down today but we can pick which one."

Sybil jumped off her father's lap. "I'll go get my coat and hat. I'll be right back" she called out as she ran towards the library door.

Robert watched as Sybil raced out the door. He looked down at his paperwork and shook his head. "Looking at Christmas trees will be more fun than this" he mumbled as he stood up.

Four hours later a very cold Robert returned to the library. They had only covered about a third of the area he had in mind for Sybil was taking quite seriously the task of finding the right tree. In his eyes they all seemed pretty much the same but his daughter saw it much differently. It just might take them till the 20th to find the right one he thought.

1912

Since old lady Carragh spent Christmas Eve and day at her daughter's house in Dublin, Tom was able to spend the time with his family. His sisters were anxiously waiting for him to arrive home because he was to take them out to get the Christmas tree. He had barely made it in the through the door when they began putting on their hats and coats.

"We've been waiting for ages Tommy"

"We need to hurry before all the trees are gone."

"All the good ones are probably gone already."

His sisters' voices filled the hallway.

"Might I at least say hello to Ma?" Tom asked.

"She's not here" Maeve breezily responded.

Less than thirty minutes later they were back at the Branson house with a rather scrawny tree. "It will fill out with the ornaments and tinsel" ever the optimist Cara declared.

The evening was filled with laughter as the Bransons decorated the tree. The ornaments were an odd assortment of stars, angels, and balls mostly homemade of tin, wood or paper with a few precious glass ornaments that Mrs. Branson had inherited from aunt. Strands of red velvet or white satin ribbons were draped as garland. More tinsel ended up on the decorators than on the tree. But in the end Tom thought the tree looked prettier than any of the previous ones.

The girls had gone up to their room to change into their clothes for midnight mass leaving Tom alone with his mother.

"I can't believe you still have that" Tom said as he fingered the snowflake he had made all those years ago.

"Of course I still have it" his mother responded, her face aglow. "It will always remind me of you."

Tom handed her a small box wrapped in plain brown paper. "You should open this one now."

He watched as his mother carefully untied the green ribbon and lifted away the brown paper. Opening the lid, she smiled as she saw the small glass ornament with swirls of colorful lines running around it.

Holding it up to the light she exclaimed "it's beautiful Tom."

"A more mature version of my snowflake" he chuckled.

1914

Tom was just finishing polishing the grille of the motor car when Lady Sybil breezed into the garage. Much to his delight, she had started popping into the garage just to talk although she always made excuses like she was on her way into the village or just coming back from a walk or delivering a message from a family member who wanted to use the motor car.

"So you are coming tomorrow aren't you Branson" she asked.

Wiping his hands on a clean rag, he looked rather puzzled as he had no idea what she was talking about.

"Coming where?" he asked.

"Tomorrow afternoon we decorate the tree in the Grand Hall. Everyone is invited to help" she paused and looked sheepishly around the garage before she turned back to look at him. "Only last year you didn't come."

"Well I hadn't really thought about it" he responded.

"Oh you must come. It's loads of fun" she grinned that smile that melted his heart. "When I was a child I couldn't wait for this day." She laughed. "Some might say I was a little too enthusiastic but" she tilted her head "I don't really think that's possible."

"Well I-" he started. It didn't really sound like something he wanted to do but then again he would be near her.

"There's refreshments … biscuits and cakes and eggnog."

"Well if there's eggnog" he grinned.

"Good" she clapped her hands. "So I'll see you then" and with that she breezed back out of the garage as quickly as she had come in.

He stood and stared at the huge tree that reached up to the balcony level of the aptly named Great Hall.

"If you think it's beautiful now just wait until it's lit." He was so mesmerized by the tree he wasn't even aware of Sybil's presence until she spoke to him.

She handed him a box. "I could use some help with these."

Tom thought the afternoon was a delight just because he was near her and could speak freely to her. She was enthusiastic and her enthusiasm spread to all around her. He watched as she comfortably talked to Daisy and William and the housemaids while he noticed her sisters were much more refrained and pretty much stayed off to one side.

And she was right. When the tree was lit it was a sight to behold. He wished he could take a picture to send home to his sisters. As he thought of his sisters he felt a pang of homesickness. No matter how beautiful this tree was nor how extravagant the ornaments were, he had noticed the delicate glass ones and the silver ones some even engraved like the silver bell Sybil had proudly showed him, he wished he was home in Ireland with the straggly tree and it's homemade ornaments and garlands of ribbon.

1919

"Sybil it's only a tree that will be up for just a couple of days." Tom couldn't believe how much care Sybil was taking in deciding which tree to buy.

"Don't you think that one is a bit too big" he said as he looked at the one she was eyeing. "It would take up most of the room we'd have to move out the furniture."

"It's just that …" she turned to look at him "it's our first tree Tom. I want it to be special."

He leaned in and softy brushed his hand across her cheek. "It will be special just because it's our first tree."

She nodded her head. "You're right. I guess-"

"Of course I'm right" he grinned. "You did marry a very smart man."

She laughed. "Who's too full of himself sometimes."

1960

"Why are these your special ornaments Grandma?" ten year old Orlaith asked.

"Because they hold special memories" Sybil replied.

Seeing the confused look on her granddaughter's face, Sybil picked up one of the ornaments from the box.

"This was the first ornament I ever picked out" she said as she held up the large tear drop shaped glass ornament. "I was five and my mother took me to the store and said I could buy any ornament I wanted and I thought this was the most beautiful one there. I loved the bright colors."

"It is beautiful Grandma."

Orlaith looked in the box. She picked up a fabric ball covered with glass beads and pearls. "I like this one."

"My grandmother Violet always put in a very small tree in her parlor and she decorated it with only this kind of balls. After she died, I took this one because it reminded me of her."

"My favorite one as a child was this silver bell" Sybil lifted the bell out of the box and shook the red ribbon causing the bell the tinkle. "I drove my sisters crazy ringing this."

Sybil laughed. "They'd try to hide it from me but I'd always find it. Then one time they put it up high on an armoire where I could see it but couldn't reach it."

"That was pretty mean of them" Orlaith remarked. "That you could see it but not touch it."

"Well I moved a chair over and stood on top of it but the chair toppled over and I sprained my ankle. Papa was so mad at them they never hid it after that."

"What about this one?" Orlaith picked up a wooden Father Christmas.

Sybil smiled. "That's the very first ornament your grandfather gave me."

"It's not much Sybil. Not like those fancy balls you're used to. But it reminds me of the spirit of Christmas like good cheer and kindness.

Just then Tom came into the room. "What are you two up to?"

"Grandma's showing me her favorite ornaments" Orlaith replied as she pointed to the box.

Tom looked at the box. He immediately spied the 'snowflake' he had many all those years ago. "That is one of your favorite ornaments?"

He pulled it out of the box and Orlaith laughed at the rather odd looking thing.

"I'll have you know I made this when I was about five or six. Carved it all by myself."

"Really Tom?" Sybil chimed in. "All by yourself?"

"Well okay my father helped me a bit." Sybil rolled her eyes. "Well maybe more than a bit" Tom finished saying. "But I did all the painting."

"Yes that I can believe."

"My mother always said it was her favorite ornament."

"Yes she was very proud when she gave it to me."

Orlaith giggled listening to her grandparents.

The three of them spend the rest of the afternoon drinking hot chocolate and listening to Sybil explain the meaning behind each of her favorite ornaments.