Heirloom Christmas tree skirt

As we took our Christmas tree down last weekend, I finally remembered to take a photo of my tree skirt so it could be added to my list of heirlooms. Every year, I always think about it after my husband had already packed everything away. Since I am certain neither of my sons has a clue where the tree skirt came from, I thought it was time to document its provenance.

One of the families I grew up with in Atlanta was the Rath/Knight family. The mother, Chris, was divorced but later remarried and became Chris Knight. Her daughter Peggy was two years older than me, and her son Gary was my age. After Chris’ second marriage, she had another daughter, Katrina. Their house was on a street parallel to our backyard. The photo below was taken in early 1960 from the backside of our front yard. Their house is the one pictured in the middle, with the garage (not the one above it).

Peggy and I were friends for many years. I remember going to her house to play with her Barbie dolls. She had a nice wooden dollhouse, and Chris sewed all sorts of Barbie clothes. I never had a Barbie doll, so Peggy very kindly shared hers. In the winter months, if by chance we had any snow—which, of course, living in Atlanta, was not very often—the neighborhood kids gathered at their house because they lived at the top of a hill. Having moved there from Michigan, they had sleds, while all we had was cardboard. We took turns having someone stand at the bottom of the hill to watch for cars while everyone else sledded down.

We played card and board games and set up Gary’s Hot Wheel tracks on their driveway to watch the cars roll down the hill. At Christmas time, we made huge tissue paper flowers to decorate packages. In the summer, we put records on the record player, and Peggy and I sat in front of the windows, singing our hearts out. We read Nancy Drew and Pippi Longstocking books and hung out with the other neighborhood kids. We spent any money we earned on a Coke and Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup at Davis Grocery, the mom-and-pop store next door to our house. We walked to our elementary school and went trick-or-treating together.

Chris always had no-bake chocolate peanut butter oatmeal cookies or a Crisco pound cake for a treat. And like Mama, she made different flavors of divinity candy every Christmas.

A birthday party at my house. That’s me in the back (right side)
with the white headband. Peggy is sitting on my right.

After Peggy’s high school graduation in 1972, the Knight family moved to Warrenton, Virginia, to manage the Rip Van Winkle Motel there. A little over six years later, Peggy convinced me to move to Virginia, and we were roommates for a while. I met my husband my first week in Virginia, and we married the following year. Our first home was less than 30 minutes from Chris’ house in Haymarket, Virginia. Before my children were born, I often visited Chris on weekends with Peggy, so we could work on ceramics. She had a basement full of molds and a kiln and gave us free rein to make what we wanted as long as we paid for the ceramic slip. 

One Christmas between 1980 and 1985, Chris gave me this tree skirt, which she crocheted. My husband and I have used it every Christmas since then. As you can see, the skirt is circular, 32 inches in diameter, and made with white, red, and green yarn. It is still in excellent condition, although it could probably use a good cleaning. I can safely say it has never been washed. We generally just box it back up when we take the tree down every year.

As time passed, my family dynamics changed, as did my interests, and Peggy and I eventually grew apart. Their entire family left Virginia separately by the mid-1980s, if I recall correctly. Gary visited my house a couple of times when he was in the area, but otherwise, I have not seen any of them for years. Despite this, we shared many childhood and early adult memories, and I think of this family every year when we set our Christmas tree up.