Paul Sassone

One of the many good things about Christmas tree ornaments is they can be saved and used for years to come. Their value only increases as they accrete more Christmas memories.

So, where are they?

Like those baseball cards you used to have, somehow most Christmas tree ornaments just vanish.

And buying new Christmas tree ornaments is not a slight expense. Some ornaments cost $20, $30, $40 or more. That’s as much as an entire Christmas tree costs, and a lot of money even if your idea of what things should cost didn’t stop at 1962 prices, as my cost-o-meter did.

Christmas tree ornaments have come a long way since the glass balls and bells of my Christmases past. Frogs, pickles, anything organic or inorganic can be an ornament, now.

Don’t get me wrong, I am not anti-ornament. I know something about ornaments because we have a lot of them at our house — yes, even one of those pickles and just about any other vegetable or fruit you care to mention.

And I like a lot of the ornaments of today.

But my favorite ornaments, the ornaments I love, are the old ornaments, ornaments that are not just made of glass or metal or plastic, but of memories of many Christmases past.

My favorite ornament is a dried-up, leathery-looking red boot about the size of your hand. On it is written in my Aunt Mary’s clear hand, “Baby Paul’s first Christmas.” No, it also doesn’t say, “Buy bonds and help fight the Confederacy.”

Then there is a blue plastic bell. This ornament is crusted with a white-ish brown substance. The bell and its crust are what remain from one of my mom’s experiments.

When I was a kid flocked Christmas trees were all the rage among folks who had just a bit more money. A flocked tree in the window let neighbors know you had made it. (Form-fitting, professionally installed plastic furniture coverings was another way to broadcast affluence.)

We couldn’t afford a flocked tree. Not that anyone in the family wanted one, except Mom. She was a fashion-conscious person. Besides, her sister, my Aunt Edna, had a flocked tree.

So, Mom bought a spray can of Flock-Yourself, or whatever it was called, and created her own flocked tree. A lot of the flocking ooze oozed onto our ornaments. And apparently the ingredients of Flock Yourself have a half-life similar to plutonium. Hence the blue plastic bell with its flocking still intact these many Christmases later.

The third item in my ornament triumvirate is a small green wreath seemingly made of pipe cleaner material. It too bears a tell-tale trace of whitish-brown crust.

So, by all means hang pickles and tigers and Big Bens and movie stars on your Christmas tree.

We will, too.

But pride of place will go to those three old ornaments that mean the world to me. It just wouldn’t be Christmas without them.

I hope you have some such ornaments for your tree, too.

–Christmas ornaments bring back good memories–