Window No. 4
When I was a very small child we had a green tinsel tree. That's the best way I can describe it. It's branches were adorned with what seemed to be green shredded paper. It always looked rather threadbare when we removed it from its box. The magic came when we added tinsel and baubles. I don't know where the baubles came from, whether they had belonged to my grandparents or if my parents had bought them during their married years before I came along, but they were a beautiful mishmash of delicate glass orbs and glittery figures. My mum would retrieve the tree and the decorations and leave my father and me to put it all together. The older, and taller, I got, the more the task fell to me, and my father just supervised. The only task he retained for himself was testing the Christmas lights.