I used to be nearsighted. I wore glasses when I drove the car, watched movies, read street signs, needed to recognize friends from a distance, and find the dirt on the floor when I vacuumed. And then, about a year ago, the glasses just didn’t work anymore. The remedy turned out to be cataract surgery, and after I had it done this summer everything became clear and bright.
It’s wonderful to have sharp vision – except for one thing. I’ve lost that misty, romantic blur I had when I wasn’t wearing my glasses. Now I see every speck of dust on the furniture and all the wrinkles on my face – yikes! And because the Christmas lights I put up a few days ago look just like what they are – lights on a string – real candlelight has become very appealing to me.
When darkness gathers early on a December afternoon I love the twinkle of little lights or the glow of a candle. One of the best things about an Alaska winter is the way the lit-up outside tree looks after snow falls. It’s a glow that always cheers me.
“Christmas Snow,” Carol Crump Bryner, 2009 Christmas card
A long time ago, the farm Christmas tree was cut on December 24th and decorated with ornaments and little clip-on candles. I’m sure those lit candles were dangerous as all get-out, but what a sight they must have been for children on Christmas day. It had to be thrilling to watch the little points of flame teasing the dry needles. My mother never got over her fear of trees catching on fire, and only wanted to have the strings of electric lights lit if she was nearby. I think she was very brave to entrust me with the candle I hold in our 1948 Christmas card.
1948 Christmas Card
When my grandson Henry came to visit this weekend, we opened the box with the Christmas ornaments and decorations I had mailed here to Portland from Alaska. In it were the Swedish chimes my mother gave me more than forty years ago. We set it up, and I let him light the candles (something I found out later he isn’t allowed to do, which, of course, made it twice as fun for him). We turned off all the lights, cuddled together on the couch, and watched the little angels go round and round making music as the flames burned the red wax almost down to the bottom.
Henry and the candles, 2014
On Monday: “Make-work”
Breakfast by candlelight is one of my Alaska traditions. It makes the morning glow! I once had a roommate who owned a set of candle clips, and once we had the bucket of water prepared, she lit them for about fifteen minutes. Then they had to be extinguished or POOF!!!
My mother had fond memories of her farm childhood, where the tradition was to cut one large branch from a pine, and stand it in a bucket in a corner to be decorated in Christmas eve. Thanks for another wonderful post, Carol. Swedish chimes are magical.
Breakfast by candlelight on a dark Alaska morning sounds like a great idea. Might get my days off to a calmer start.
What a wonderful post, Cuz. Brings back to mind those magical childhood Christmases where the unpacking of each decorative item intensified the excitement of the holiday. We had those chimes as well (I hope Jeanne still has them), and Henry’s rapt gaze makes me very nostalgic for those times.
Thanks, Cuz. I remember your childhood tree as having an impressive amount of tinsel on it. My mother would only let us hang one piece of the silver stuff at a time, but yours was always so generously endowed with shimmering light. I was jealous. This is definitely the time of year for nostalgia.
You make me laugh, talking about kids and fire. It’s a wonder I never burned down many buildings in my life. The fascination of fire for warmth and beauty has a danger behind it that we are seemingly willing to take a risk for, because it is so appealing. We are looking forward to a big winter bonfire when our family is here for Christmas. Thanks Carol.
I can’t imagine you burning down a house! But your winter bonfire sounds great. Wish I could be there to see it. Take a picture for me!
I love this photo of Henry – and thinking about all forms of Christmas glow from lights and candles. A friend told a story last year of lighting a candle at breakfast this time of year, leaving her husband reading the paper, and coming back to find the paper beginning to flare and the husband oblivious! We only do candles at dinner – but all the extra Christmas lights are on each morning. Today it’s so dark and rainy, the outdoor lights came back on at 8 a.m. on for an early cycle. Thanks Carol!
That’s funny about the burning newspaper. It is very dark and rainy in the Pacific Northwest today, and the lights (even though I can see the strings too) are incredibly helpful.
I miss my tin angel as it was crushed in one of my many moves. I have a music box of similar design and the grands love it, too.
Isn’t it funny how attached we get to some of these things that bring back good memories?
I love this picture of you long ago carrying the candle up the stairs, and then the picture of Henry with the candles that make the angles go around (we used to have one of these, but where is it?). What a gift to combine these photos of you as a youngster and Henry at the same age. I am in total awe of how you have combined the past with the present in so many ways this last year: photos, paintings, drawings, journals, letters, personal notes, and a love of everything in your family. Thanks for all the joy of family and memories you have given us.
Hi Carol! Glad to hear from you. Combining the photos, etc. is always fun for me, but even more fun to hear from old friends like you.
What a delightful post. I think your Christmas card is very pretty. I collect postcards, mostly vintage ones, but still like to receive any of them. When I was still working we used to get 20 or more Christmas cards each year but last year it went down to 4 only.
The picture of your going up the stairs is adorable too. One year, when we moved to Georgia, our house was burglarized, just before Christmas. We had not moved furniture in it yet, just our Christmas ornaments and two large boxes of all our photo slides. That took that and I would have preferred them to take our TV or other possessions than our Christmas ornaments and especially all the pictures from our wedding and the pictures of our baby daughters. One thing I miss from Christmas from when I was growing up, is my mother taking me each year to the large department stores in Paris where they had beautiful animated Christmas decorated windows. They still have them each year, but here in the malls in the US, we do not see such windows.
Thanks, Vagavonde. That awful about losing your photos. Yes – I think I would rather have the TV taken than to lose memories like that.
NYC still has lovely windows. My mother used to take me there from Connecticut on the train sometimes to see the Christmas windows and to skate at Rockefeller Center. It was always thrilling.