X-mas time of fascination, a season of hope and light

By Hillary Rodham Clinton

This week begins the holiday season at the White house, the fifth Bill and I have been privileged to celebrate in the "people's house" Christmas at the White House comes with many wonderful challenges -- from decorating dozens of trees to entertaining thousands of people to preparing for the season the summer before it happens.

Last June, for example, I had to decide on this year's theme. Because my childhood memories of Christmas are so happy, I wanted to recreate the holiday through the eyes of a child. After all, early memories o Christmas never seem to fade, and the entire season of hope and light is meant to honor the birth of a homeless child who became the Prince of Peace.

Every year, artists from around the country create ornaments for the official Christmas tree in the Blue Room. This year, glass artists, needlepointers and fashion designers were all invited to work around the theme of a child's Christmas -- and to focus particularly on the place that always seems to be an object of fascination for children: Santa's workshop.

In October, the ornaments started coming in. After thanksgiving, volunteers arrived to work with the White House staff to make bows and wreaths and to find a place for each ornament on the 18-foot North Carolina Fraser fir that reaches up to the Blue Room's ceiling.

Near the top of the tree, there's a needlepoint creation featuring Socks as a jack- In-the-box. It is just one of the hundreds of needlepoint works stitched by members of the National Needlework Association. There are colorful renditions of toys and animals. There's a version of Santa's workshop -- complete with miniature tools -- put together by 20 people from Pittsburgh. And there's an authentic-looking Big Mac, sesame seeds on top, dedicated to my husband (even though I can vouch for the fact that he has not eaten one in years).

The lights on the tree are reflected in the beautiful creations donated by glass artists who belong the American Craft Council. One sent an igloo made from antique glass. Another created a regal sphere of metal and glass, dotted with dark-blue glass beads, in memory of Princess Diana. An artist from West Virginia made something she called "The Ornament of the Universe" -- an elegant globe with the constellations superimposed on it.

Members of the Council of Fashion Designers of America were invited to create their own tiny suits for Mr. and Mrs. Claus. the result was sequined Santa outfits that would be right at home at the Academy Awards. One designer produced an ornament that consists of a red scarf wrapped around a happy-looking reindeer; a pursemaker made a red purse edged with white fur; a swimwear designer offered a bright-red Yuletide bikini.

What makes these ornaments especially wonderful is that each one is the work of an individual or a small group of people who spent days -- even weeks -- forming a vision and then turning that vision into reality. The stories of the men and women who made the ornaments that grace our national tree are often as inspiring as the season itself.

One needlepoint artist from Maryland designed an ornament depicting the person who inspired her to pursue her craft: her grandfather, who was a tailor in Washington, D.C., at the turn of the century. Another honored her grandmother, who arrived in America from Italy in 1908, by creating a needlepoint portrait of a peasant woman holding a bouquet of flowers.

Instead of locking back to his childhood, a glass artist from New York state reached out to second-graders at his local elementary school to help him design his ornament. The children sent him cutouts of snowflakes and drawings of their vision of Santa's workshop. He created a striking glass piece, reminiscent of a snowflake, with images of the children's drawings embedded in the glass. The ornament arrived last month along with a big red scrapbook filled with photos of the students and their drawings.

Though it is not in the Blue Room, there's another holiday symbol that illuminates our hope for children. This year, to celebrate Hanukah, there will be a special Menorah in the West Wing. The Menorah was sent to Bill by an Israeli man whose 18- year-old son was killed in Israel's 1973 war with Egypt. Because the young man was born on the last night of Hanukkah, the father decided he would honor his son's memory by making Menorahs, pouring "his grief into copper, bronze and white metal." Inscribed in Hebrew on the knotted arms of the Menorah are the words of Isaiah urging us to beat swords into plowshares. The Menorah commemorates both the memory of this man's son and he hope of peace for all children.

Christmas and Hanukkah represent different faiths but similar hopes. I hope this year's holiday decorations at the White House reflect this. Not only do these celebrations ask us to see the world through a child's eyes, they also challenge us to shape a better world for those eyes to see.

-- Creators Syndicate