FROM THE BRANCHES By Frances Judge Memories dangle from the branches of our decked-out tree; gold bead garland snakes around treasures hung haphazardly— Backwards and tangled Popsicle stick squares, sprinkled with glitter, frame silly boy smiles, laughter I could hold forever, blessings worth tears and trials, And whispered prayers Some decorations span three generations; one Wise Man persevered; though his orange robe tattered, his gift will still be revered— Calls for celeb