The Totten household began our Christmas preparation the week of Thanksgiving. Our older kids went up into the attic to start hunting down packed-away boxes. There must be about a dozen of those large plastic containers tucked away.

We have just about every Happy Meals toy. We faithfully attend the movies, too: This year, "Madagascar 2" and "Kung Fu Panda" will hang from the ceiling of our living room.

We take out the glue gun, glitter, Christmas ribbons, colored tissue paper and special containers the kids have saved. We gather school portraits and projects, then glue everything together. The younger kids have a blast remembering projects they did.

Our eldest son, Maunakea, made a miniature manger scene from tissue paper and cardboard in 1980, his first year in Sunday school. Nalu made angels from the white crisscross foam wrappers of Korean pears. We have reindeer our sons Kealoha and Mahalo made from nylon stockings, and a crocheted Santa Claus my mom made one year that I treasure. There are a couple very special hanging three-tier-triangle ornaments our older girls, Hoku and Waianiani, made in the third grade.

The older kids sorted Christmas lights by color and replaced burnt-out ones. Once everything is put together, Dad gets out the nails and the ladder, then everything goes up. Christmas lights are hung from the kitchen to the living room and down the hall. The McDonald's toys hang between each colored bulb. The entire Christmas project from kindergarten through high school are all settled into different places through out the house.

Memories flood in throughout December, when the oldest child to the youngest are drawn to the Christmas tree. They sit on the couch, gazing at a string of blinking lights, remembering. In our bedroom we can hear the laughter, the giggles and the "remember when." Sometimes, quiet tears appear when a cherished memory returns.

One year, our oldest daughter brought home friends from work. We could hear them laughing as she proudly spoke of the Christmas ornament she made in the second grade, now faded and held together by tape.

The last couple years our teens had friends sleep over on the living room floor, curled up in blankets, with popcorn and hot chocolate. They spent the night talking about memories of their own Christmases.

Our table is filled with family chatter centering around "The time when ... " and "Do you remember?" My heart lightens to know my kids have something in common.

My husband and I have our own special time in front of the tree, enjoying our memories. It's our time to share prayers and thanks for the grace to come through the year's ups and downs with our family intact.

The week before Christmas, we put out a manger scene with the host of angels, reminding us that if this first family could survive through the hardships they faced, then hope is seen and faith will find a way.

It reminds us how far we have come as a family. In our reflections, our many miracles are revealed. As we prepare for our holidays and through the joy and the laughter of shared memories, somewhere forgiveness is given and family bonds are repaired.

All is well, and for now there is peace on earth in the Totten household, at least for this Christmas season.

A. Lee Totten, mother of 11 children, has adopted seven foster children.