Christmas's Past

I put up my Christmas tree last Sunday. As I was deciding what ornaments to put on it, I was looking at all the "home-made" ornaments my kids made (many years ago!) and other ornaments that are way past their prime. I was wondering why I didn't just throw them away. Then I was reading through my "Christmas Ideals" magazine and saw this poem. I thought it was appropriate.

Christmas Angel

Half of me wants to throw away

This angel with damaged wings,

Stored in the attic at Yuletide's end

With leftover Christmas things.

Half of me sees that the gold on her robe

Is tarnished beyond repair,

And obviously the sheen is gone

From her halo-crowned, golden hair.

But half of me treasures the memories

That crowd in as I hold her near,

Memories of all the joys she has seen

From her treetop year after year.

So, I climbed the ladder, and put her there

In what is her rightful place,

Forgetting the injuries the years have brought--

She still has her angel face.

Though the glow she once had

Through the years may depart,

She retains, as always, her hold on the heart.