Frankenmuth

The beer brought Oma back into the conversation. We talked about the steins she collected, and the extremely potent eggnog she made with dozens of eggs, buckets of heavy cream and enough bourbon to fill a hot tub. Oma threw wonderful Christmas parties! I'll concede: if Oma were here, she would have pointed out it wasn't that much bourbon, but my mom and I were having a great time recalling the stories. Early the next morning, I jogged off a few calories in the name of sightseeing. The town was quiet and frosty, which felt cozy to me. I forged my path by whim—inefficiently going here and there, following the river between winterized trees, admiring an inn up close, going through a park, and crossing the wooden covered bridge multiple times, just because. I appreciated every stride of it. After regrouping, my mom, Lex and I went out for a breakfast that included smoothies and lattes at Harvest Coffeehouse. It occurred to me that my mom and I have spent a lot of time bonding over smoothies or lattes since I was a pre-teen. I liked that Lex's initiation into the custom was in Frankenmuth—a place instantly steeped in tradition for us. Once properly fueled, visiting the largest Christmas store in the world topped our day's agenda. Bronner's CHRISTmas Wonderland was already bustling when we arrived. The Christmas tunes, dazzling lights and shimmering objects captivated us. Lex started reporting on the scene. "That's a tree. Those are Lex's horses. That's blue, and that's—that's a Santa!" My mom laughed and said, "You're so cute, Lex. Let's explore!" Walking the aisles of this 96,000-square-foot showroom felt like an immersion into Christmas as its own dimension. In toys, trinkets, cards, ornaments and other goodies, we saw the holiday across history, cultures and styles. We spent hours browsing and collecting treasures while exchanging stories sparked by the displays. I had no doubt Oma would come into conversation in this wonderland, but I was stunned to almost literally find her childhood memory on a shelf. It was a Santa Evidence Kit. A poem on the box explained its contents: What have we here? Looks like a clue! Someone has visited. Yes, it's true! There are glasses, a glove And a button Some footprints and a bell It was Santa and his reindeer I just know it, I can tell! I couldn't believe it. It broke my heart that Oma never got to hold my daughter. But I'd be able to give Lex Oma's favorite Christmas memory. Beyond a footprint and a sleigh bell, the kit included a handschuh! I blinked away the moisture that wound up in my eyes, and showed my mom. "Wow," she said. That syllable seemed to encompass our entire Frankenmuth experience. We came here anticipating a magical visit, but had no idea how close to the heart it would be. "Yes, but those aren't horses—they're reindeer!" I answered. "Reindeer?" She tested. "They're so cuuute!" Ein mehr bier, bitte! 30

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