I was three years old at the time, and while I don't remember the event, I've been told that Grandpa was adamant about taking me to the Christmas party. Now, one thing you must understand... Grandpa was a rough sort of man. He was a former Marine who fought in WWII. So his voice was loud and gruff when he spoke. And he didn't care what he said or to whom. Except to one... me. Apparently this particular year, Grandpa had bought some raffle tickets because he had his eye on this little angel that played Silent Night. I say "little" but in reality, she is a good sized figure. However, Grandpa bought the tickets, and when the drawing took place, guess who had the winning ticket? I did.
I came home from the Annual Moose Club Christmas Party with not only a present from Santa, but the most beautiful Angel that played Silent Night. My mother sat her out on the table for me, wound her up, and let her play her tune as she spun round and round.
Grandpa passed away in 1983, just a few short months before I got married. Still, we put my little angel out and wound her up, probably more for sentimental reasons and in memory of Grandpa than as a decoration for Christmas. But nonetheless, she came out.
|My little Christmas Angel... The picture is my grandpa|
in his Marine uniform, when he was in his 20's
My three kids have all gone through the "ritual" year after year, of watching their mom put out the angel, wind her up, and let her play. When they were small, I would tell them the story of how I got her and who got her for me. I watched as their little eyes would light up when I pulled her out of the box, unwrap her, straighten her wings, then wind her up.
|My Grandma Ann & Grandpa Johnny|
Both, precious memories now, too.
My mother is gone now, too. My kids are all grown up and moved out. I have two grandsons now. And my poor little angel is 44 years old this year. Her box is long gone, having disintegrated many years ago. Her white dress is now a dingy yellowish grey. Her wings are droopy, although I have tried to wire them back up. Her halo is also droopy and grey. But she is still the most beautiful thing to me. I leave her out all year now instead of putting her away. My reasoning is that I want to enjoy her more than just once a year. I also want everyone else to enjoy her. And every time I look at her I remember my grandpa, and smile... sometimes with a tear in my eye.
What is your favorite Christmas memory?