The lost angel

She's gone. After writing my Christmas column in the paper last week, I've been eagerly anticipating finding the tiny angel decoration that adorned one of my packages at my first Christmas. I was a little more than two months old, but as the years went on, my mother made sure I knew the significance of that two-inch celestial being fashioned of chiffon and pipe cleaners. She always found a little perch on my tree, although the years were beginning to take their toll. Her gown needed a little freshening up to mold her back into shape. I can't believe she's gone. This morning, I still had another box of ornaments to sort through and I was sure she was there. She wasn't. The star of my story, the ornament that started it all, is missing. I don't think there's much of a chance I'll find her. She's likely swimming with the fishes now. The only thing I can think of is that she was left on the tree last year when we took it down. She's so small and is usually nestled on an inner branch. Perhaps she fell down into the tree and was overlooked. The tree is at the bottom of Lake Sinclair now as a fish haven. I hope they enjoy her. Of course she only meant something to me and my mother - and Mom's gone too. I had anticipated crying over some smashed ornament that might have slipped out of Faith's grasp, but I never imagined grieving over my angel. It seems so silly to be crying about something so small. Only Mom would understand.
- Liz Fabian