My cousin Ethan is tall enough that on Friday as we
decorated our Papa’s Christmas tree, he was able to reach the top to affix the
angel.
Papa’s angel is a happy sprite, a white dress, brown yarn
hair, rounded plastic cheeks and a tight but friendly smile. I’m sure Nana
bought her at Big Lots or Dollar General or something.
I can’t remember having
seen her before, having noticed her before, but I know there’s always been an
angel on top of that tree.
My parents’ tree had an angel mom bought at Dart Drug in
Salisbury, Maryland during their first or second Christmas season. I remember thinking that angel was beautiful.
We were not allowed to touch her; Dad would put her on top of the tree after
we’d finished decorating.
The angel on mine and Charlie’s tree is a CVS purchase; she
wears stiff gold wraps that make her look as if some heavenly wind is holding
her aloft. She still has some sparkles left and she attaches to the tree with
the wire twist tie that once held her upright in her box.
After helping Mama with her tree, Hollie visited Little Papa
and reported that his tree has a star on top. A star! She was amazed. She
didn’t know trees could be topped with stars.
It’s one of the many changes over the last year: Little Papa
has his own tree at his own house, Aunt Lesli refuses to speak to her sisters, and Big Papa’s Christmas decorations were
unpacked and assembled by his grandchildren, without Nana.
