The ornaments that tell a story

Today, the smell of fermenting Christmas tree got to be too much. So our once beautiful, 8 ft high, 6 in too tall for our ceilings, upgraded by mistake tree is now lying in a heap outside the door.

The real story, though, is told by the pile of ornaments waiting to be packed away. The last remaining strand of gold tinsel that I used to wind around the roof of my Barbie dream house. The hand-painted ceramic mice that Mom made in the 80s. My 18 month old son's handprint. The cork, glitter and wood ornament he made at preschool this year. The bead and lace candles that Mom and I made when we lived in Florida. The handful of ornaments from my parents' collection that I saw every year as I grew up. The angels and cloisonne eggs that I inherited after my mom passed away.

What stories do your ornaments tell?