Some of my favorite ornaments on our Christmas tree are the vintage ones. I have collected them through the years, some from family, some from thrift stores and when I see them sparkling in the tiny white lights, their stories fill my mind and my heart.
The ornaments that mean the most to me are the beautiful frosted glass ornaments that came from my grandmother. She passed away nine years ago but her spirit lingers each Christmas as I hang the delicate figurines on me tree. An angel, a harp, a trumpet, each one is carefully placed in front of a light so it will glow. It may sound silly or cheesy but it reminds me of her spirit shining through to say hello.
Vintage bulbs in beautiful colors with sparkling lines of glitter often catch my eye in thrift stores. These two bulbs were found that way. They each came in sets with other beautiful, glittering treasures but they are the ones that have survived our many moves and storage. I find myself wondering who owned them before me. How many children have they seen run to the tree on Christmas morning, eager to see what Santa has left them? How many children have they watched grow up? Decades they have spent, trapped in the dark for eleven months and then for one shining moment, they are allowed to sparkle in the light and share the beauty they were made to display.
There is history in these vintage ornaments. There are traditions ingrained into their fragile bodies. They remind me that each Christmas brings with it another year of life gone. Another year closer to the day my children are grown and gone. Another year to fill our hearts and souls with memories. These ornaments remind me that time marches on, that no matter how good or how bad, the year will pass and a new one will begin and most of all, these ornaments remind me that what I have right now, this very moment is precious beyond measure and I will never get it back.
