My family roots are in the wheatfields of Kansas. It wasn't until I had moved away to the west coast that I realized how deep those roots were. Many years ago, as I flew across Kansas on my way home for Christmas, my heart clutched as I gazed from the window onto those fields. Home. I grew up in the suburbs of Kansas City, but I claim those wheatfields as my own. I was lucky enough to have spent several weeks each summer with my grandparents in the heartland, listening to farm reports, Tradio and playing cards in front of the water cooler. I've always said that wheat is what put me through school, and I'm thankful to my granddad and uncles-the farmers that helped make that college education possible.
I am blessed to have known my grandparents, both sides of the family as well as my great grandparents on my dad's side. They were farmers, carpenters, policemen, nurses as well as piano teachers, school teachers and anything else they could find that would help put food on the table. They survived the Great Depression, the Dust Bowl, the Polio epidemic, droughts, floods and learned how to make do with what they had. These people helped shape me into the person I am today, with their sense of family, values and most especially their incredible ability to scrimp, save and reuse gift wrap. Yes. Giftwrap.
My grandmothers were the savers of all things, from the cotton that used to be wedged into aspirin bottles to plastic bags, newspapers and of course National Geographic magazines. But what I really remember, was the saving of the wrapping paper and boxes. I will never forget the reminders, Save the wrapping paper! Save the bows!
Some family members had perfected the art of removing wrapping paper to create a large reusable sheet for next year by opening one end and sliding the box out. We called it cheating, since the suspense of undoing each piece of tape was denied to those of us that had wrapped the surprise and were wanting that anticipation to last just a little bit longer as each piece was carefully peeled back.
You could expect to see that giftwrap for years, shrinking in size as the rips and tears from undoing the tape were trimmed off. As we got older, it would seem that we delighted in balling up the paper to keep from ever having to see it again, much to my grandmas dismay. As I think about that now, I'm a bit nostalgic and disappointed that we didn't do a better job of helping recycle and reuse.
Last night I had on my favorite Christmas CD's, was wrapping Christmas gifts with dinner in the oven. My kitchen was a warm, happy place with family milling about, laughing, talking about nothing and everything. I opened a new roll of wrapping paper and had flipped the paper over to measure the paper to the box, and noticed on the grid the following words: Giftwrap is 100% recyclable. I began smiling and thinking to myself, yeah, my grandmas were WAY ahead of you on that one.
Merry Christmas to all, Happy New Year and much peace, health and blessings are wished your way.
