Plastic Angels
Nah I haven't gone emo- I just decorated the Christmas tree alone and have been thinking a lot.
Plastic Angels
Jillian Smith
December 7th 2004
The plastic angels that hung on the Christmas tree always fascinated me. The youthful faces and bring gold finish on each small plastic figure reminded me of Christmas. Anymore the small plastic figures are now chipped, and have lost their luster and life.
Decorating the Christmas tree was always a ceremony, a family gathering that each member of the family partook in. My mother always took my sister and myself shopping for a yearly ornament. A new year, a new collection, a new reminder that Christmas was coming again. My plastic angels were always my comfort, my reminder that it was that time and that the morning of scotch tape, wrapping paper and gifts was at hand.
I just finished decorating my Christmas tree, looking at my plastic angels and realizing it has become a task. No new ornaments have been purchased for nine years now. No real excitement resides in my heart now. The family decorating ceremony is now just myself, reaching to hang dull bulbs and aged ornaments which, only makes me want to hurry and finish and get back to my daily routine.
Loss of youth? No- more so just dissatisfaction with which, have now become a family and my youth.
Nine Christmas’s have now been ones of solitary decoration. My mother attempted the year of the separation. It was amusing, but it failed.
My sister has a commanding will and wish to decorate her own tree now. She had more family Christmas’s than I ever had. Six more. Six more Christmas’s with a mother, father and family decoration. An attempt to have more of a spirit and have more of a happy feeling when looking onto the aged plastic angels. Six more years of Christmas cookies with Hershey kisses, Christmas cake’s and multi-colored lights.
Christmas time is family time. My family time is usually spent alone. So I sit back and look at my Christmas tree, in all her glory, giving home to my plastic angels.
Plastic Angels
Jillian Smith
December 7th 2004
The plastic angels that hung on the Christmas tree always fascinated me. The youthful faces and bring gold finish on each small plastic figure reminded me of Christmas. Anymore the small plastic figures are now chipped, and have lost their luster and life.
Decorating the Christmas tree was always a ceremony, a family gathering that each member of the family partook in. My mother always took my sister and myself shopping for a yearly ornament. A new year, a new collection, a new reminder that Christmas was coming again. My plastic angels were always my comfort, my reminder that it was that time and that the morning of scotch tape, wrapping paper and gifts was at hand.
I just finished decorating my Christmas tree, looking at my plastic angels and realizing it has become a task. No new ornaments have been purchased for nine years now. No real excitement resides in my heart now. The family decorating ceremony is now just myself, reaching to hang dull bulbs and aged ornaments which, only makes me want to hurry and finish and get back to my daily routine.
Loss of youth? No- more so just dissatisfaction with which, have now become a family and my youth.
Nine Christmas’s have now been ones of solitary decoration. My mother attempted the year of the separation. It was amusing, but it failed.
My sister has a commanding will and wish to decorate her own tree now. She had more family Christmas’s than I ever had. Six more. Six more Christmas’s with a mother, father and family decoration. An attempt to have more of a spirit and have more of a happy feeling when looking onto the aged plastic angels. Six more years of Christmas cookies with Hershey kisses, Christmas cake’s and multi-colored lights.
Christmas time is family time. My family time is usually spent alone. So I sit back and look at my Christmas tree, in all her glory, giving home to my plastic angels.