As Gemma and I were getting out of the car, we could hear the Christmas Carol, ' Deck the Halls', greeting us as we inhaled the fragrance of evergreens.
We went into the greenhouse and as far as we could see were row upon row of poinsettias, hydrangeas, paper whites, amaryllis, Christmas trees, greens, and ornaments.
To me, it was like a deja vu. My parents owned a flower business and green house. I had stepped back into my past and was now sharing it with my granddaughter. I remember so clearly the record player and the speakers playing the Christmas Carols and how I would sing along. I remember
the big movable Santa waving at passersby.
I remember the smells, the nip in the air and and all of the people coming to make their purchases.I remember the big green and white stripped tent that was erected behind the business for designers to create wreathes, garlands, boxwood trees and everything imaginable from fresh greens. But what I remember most about that tent was the year my nieces, nephews and I pretended that we were trapeze artists, tight rope walkers, clowns, and animals performing in a circus tent.
This garden center even had that tent.
I pointed all of these things out to my little Gemma. The smells, the sounds and the sights from my Christmases past, I just wish she were old enough to remember.