Do You Hear What I Hear?

My tree fell over last week.  While it had almost all of the ornaments on.  (My kids were upstairs, so they couldn't be squashed by it... or blamed for its demise.)  I was in another room, too. The sound of a million pieces of glass tinkling as the ornaments hit my hard word floor would have been prettier if I hadn't known exactly what had happened.  But the sound of a Christmas tree falling over has a very distinct sound.

My first reaction (despite the fact that I've been collecting and hording away ornaments for almost 20 years now, like some sort of crazed squirrel) was actually pretty good. "They're just ornaments," I told myself. And then I remembered 2 that weren't just ornaments to me.

My Great Grandmother Black's Baby Doll Ornament- safe!

And the angel ornament I received from my aunt, Nine, on the day I was baptized...er, not safe.

I cried-- only a little.  The countless others that broke, I was okay with, but this one was special. I still have the gift box and card she came with and I read the card every year when I place her on the tree. 

My momma brought me a surprise today. 

I think I'll keep them both.  Thank you, Momma!