and as more often than not, Momma is correct!
A snobbish angel? My faith in the universe has been restored. :)
Thou shalt have no false idols before Me.
When I was 9, the rather lame star that had been on top of our tree since before I was born broke. So we picked out a lighted angel. She was very pretty with colored lights under her gown, in her head, and holding lights like candles. At school, we were supposed to write a Christmas story, so I made up a story about the angel on top of the tree. But, when I write, I often get letters in the wrong place, or pieces of words duplicated or even missing. And so, until I was in my 20’s, there was an Angle on top of our tree.
Reality is hard to catch here, intentions are good.
Wait ’til you see his Big Brothers !!
When I was child, we had an angel for the top of our tree that we called Annie, after my youngest sister. In the early 80s’, both of my parents had open-heart surgery within a year of each other. A dear family friend who ran the Christmas tree farm where we always got our tree gave us an elf in green that was described as a lepechaun. Forty years later, Lucky still hangs on the top of our tree.
I would like “Yaffle” on top of my tree.
Especially the cute angel feet are hard to get right.
We have many traditions in our family. The one most close to my heart has to do with an ornament. When my brother was borne in 1938, my father got a small artificial tree for his first Christmas. Still a babe in arms, he delighted in seeing it whenever someone would hold him up close to it. The folks did not know that he was quite nearsighted until he was six.
The one ornament he kept insisting on seeing and for which he always reached, was a tiny Santa, balanced on the rear of his sleigh runners, with two reindeer pulling the sled. Years went by. Six years later Dad died at a very young age (38). Mother still brought out the little tree every year, until it was so worn and frazzled that at age 32 my brother finally packed it into its box and threw it out after the Christmas season. But he kept all the old ornaments, and the lights. After he died, my sister-in-law asked if I wanted any of that stuff. I rescued the tiny sleigh.
And so, we moved on. But that little ornament has been out during the holiday season, somewhere in the house, every year since my brother was 9 months old, now more than 80 years. Now my kids visit during the year-end holidays from wherever they are, and as soon as they walk in the first question is “Where is the sleigh?”
Tevya had it right – “Tradition!”