Every Christmas season for as long as I can remember, my grandparent’s (mom’s parents) have adorned their dining room with a small village.
As a kid, I would stare at the village for what felt like hours. It really feels like a little town; each character has a different story to tell. Even though I’m “all grown up” (ha! I use that loosely) I still find myself lost in the characters. Take a look.
While we were exploring The Village this year, my Grandpa told me about some of the great-grandkids that came over to see The Village. He chuckled as he told me that after they left he found ice skaters hanging out on a rooftop. I used to do the same thing as a kid. One of the awesome rules of The Village is that kids are allowed to touch it and make it come alive. I loved that rule.
My Gramps, he’s a pretty swell fellow, if I do say so myself.