More Ghosts of Christmas Past

THGGM claims that this is his most favorite Christmas decoration.  It is a pillow I made for him around Christmas 30 some years ago.  Daughter has our cat, Dude, behind her.  Oldest Son has his favorite bear and a book, and Youngest Son has his Ernie doll and his blanket.  Those are the clothes they were wearing that day.  Although we didn't have that wallpaper until decades later, or pained windows, or even that large of a tree.  The picture was colored on a plain sheet of paper with fabric crayons and then ironed onto a piece of white fabric and stitched into a pillow with some Christmas theme fabric on the back.
I remember that we made this as a project with some very good friends of ours.  Their mom was homeschooling them and did not consider herself very crafty, so they all came over and we had ourselves some fun!
On Sunday, Daughter sent me a picture she had received from her friend, the daughter of the family.  It was a picture of three little pillow depicting various scenes from the Christmas story.  She had been to her grandma's, who was the recipient of their pillow creations, and saw the three pillows lined up on the back of her grandma's couch, just where she has put them for over 30 years.
Of course, I remember that day we made those.  We lived in a tiny little house in the city.  Quite awhile ago I found this picture at a thrift store.  It took my breath away.  In my mind, this is what that day looked like to me.  Oldest Son in the chair (eventually we had that chair!).  Oh, and DO note the doily on the armrest.  Youngest Son  in bib overalls wishing he were in that chair.  Two girls on the couch.  Daughter with wispy blonde curls and her friend with straight long hair with bangs, reading her a story.  It could have been us.  It took a while, but now we have two fire places.  And three blanket chests.  I gave our rocking chair like that to Youngest Son for his kids.  We had a rocking horse.  We also always had toys all over the floor.  We still do.  Gingerbread boys, wicker baskets, candles, quilts.., not much has changed here.  Except that the children are all in their thirties.
I can only hope that dear to their hearts are the scenes of their childhood when fond recollection presents them to view.