The Christmas Angel

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Non-Fiction  |  House: Booksie Classic
A special Christmas Angel provokes a life-time memory of love and meaning of Christmas to the writer

Submitted: January 21, 2009

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Submitted: January 21, 2009

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THE CHRISTMAS ANGEL
Funny how some things stick in your mind, settled there, snuggled down in the back of your memory. You tend to hold close to the happy ones.Your childhood memories tend to be the sweetest I think.
When you are young you are the most innocent, the happiest, and the most protected.You tend to shake out the bad memories automatically, leaving the treasured memories safe from harm.
This came to my mind last Christmas as I was decorating the tree.I was thinking of my children, almost grown, already trying fledging wings, getting ready to fly from the nest to begin their own adventures in this world of ours.
I reached into the large box of tree decorations for the small blue box that held two of my “treasures.” One was a real bird’s nest that my husband and I found as a young couple in one of the first trees we brought home.Apparently finding a nest in a tree is lucky, or so I had been told.I cajoled my husband into sealing the fragile work of art and then set about finding an artificial bird to place in it.I found the most stunning red Cardinal. It looked so real right down to its shiny black eyes. Many years later it is still nesting each Christmas in our tree.
The real treasure however, is my Christmas Angel. No large gorgeous glittering angel, but a very small battered angel, which has somehow survived since I was five years old.It is one of the few things I distinctly remember that Christmas and all Christmases to follow.
I remember that particular Christmas because I was sick. I always seemed to get sick by Christmas day.A few days before, my older sister who was in a Church group called Explorers (I was extremely jealous of all the colored stars on her shirt sleeve) were having a Christmas function.
I only remember three things clearly; the beautifully done Church hall complete with candles on tables dressed up in red or green, my father passing an orange between his feet.My father normally would never do anything so silly and he really seemed to be having fun!
Third, and most important, was the dish of chocolate goodies being passed out.In the dish was a chocolate angel.She was covered with tinfoil. Tin foil green for her gown and stiff tinfoil for gold wings.Her hair was tin foil blonde, but of course all angels had beautiful blonde hair in my mind. Being selfish, like most five year old little girls, I had to have her.I grabbed her from the dish preparing to disrobe the delectable piece of confectionary.
My mother had other plans.She gently disengaged the angel from my reluctant grasp and saved her life.She said she would hang her on the Christmas tree and I could have the chocolate Christmas morning.Well, I didn’t like that idea very much but what could I do.I nodded my head.
I reasoned, Christmas is only a little bit away. I could wait. I guess.
Christmas morning arrived and I was sick, however nothing could keep me from stocking or tree and I was allowed up in my pyjamas to open presents.I forgot about the angel in all the excitement, but my mother didn’t.She was packed away with the other ornaments.
The next Christmas when my mother was decorating the tree, I saw my angel in the tree ornaments.I still wanted to eat her.My mother laughed and said she would be too hard to eat now. I learned a new word that day. Petrified. I was horrified until my Mother explained she was too hard to eat. Mom hung her at the top of tree just below our tree top.She seemed to belong there.
She has remained there each Christmas to this day.Over the years she has been mended with scotch tape and her wings have bent a little, but she is still my Christmas Angel.
She will be passed on to my youngest daughter as I was the youngest daughter.I can only hope she appreciates her as much as I do.
I always think of my Mother every time my angel is put on the tree.
You do know the real angel is my Mother.Always has been. No present could ever come close. Memories like that are Christmas.The sweet ones, that you snuggle in the back of your mind.


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