Hubby bought a tree for my classroom this year. Last year, my first year back after a 16 year stint in business, I didn't have my own room. But this year I do, so Hubby got the kids a tree. It's one of those fiber optic trees so it doesn't really look good unless the room is pitch black, but the kids like it anyway.
My para went nuts. She decided the kids had to make ornaments. Now these are high school kids so I looked at her a bit askance, but . . . on Monday and Tuesday I took the days away from school to write my final paper for my grad class . . . and my para took the time to have my 4th block study skills kids make ornaments and -- get this -- hang their stockings around the tree. I came back on Wednesday to find the far corner of the room a veritable Christmas fantasy land. Eighteen stockings, all purchased by the para, each with the respective kid's name, have been hung around the tree. Snowflakes have been made and padded with scrap paper to be dimensional. Ribbons have been curled and draped. The African-American dancing Santa, gifted to hubby some years back, stands proudly next to the tree while all my classroom stuffed Schnauzers are peeking out from under the branched. The boom box, dialed to the 24 hour Christmas station, plays soft carols and we have lit the cinnamon candles. It is very festive.
So, even though we are having freezing rain and dire predictions for ice storms, Hubby and I went out to the dollar stores today and loaded up on odds and ends to fill the stockings. Monday I'm going to cart in a huge box of weird stuff, hand over the tissue paper, and tell my para to find herself a couple of elves and get busy stuffing those stockings.
The Christmas spirit abounds.