When I was younger, my family’s next-door neighbor, gave my mom a Christmas gift. Instantly, I fell in love.
She was made of styrofoam, fuzzy pipe cleaners, sequins, and curly hair. A regular pipe cleaner was used to fasten her to the top of the Christmas tree which Mom did for many years. Until she found another she liked better. The littlest angel was retired.
I am a huge retro fan and begged my mom for the angel. She wouldn’t give it to me. I didn’t press her for a reason or badger her to turn it over. Every now and again, I would ask and she would say no. 
Sometime later, I frequented my favorite flea market and found my own little angel. She didn’t have hair and an eye had gone missing. But I didn’t care. I had one of my own to cherish.
Then Mom died and my sisters and I went through her things. I secretly hoped in my heart we would find her angel, and we did! So now, I have two. They sit on a bookcase shelf in my office for me to love every single day.
Often writers are asked where ideas come from for stories. I knew I needed to tell my littlest angel story. And I did in Sommerville holidays….
The Littlest Angel
Two people. One ornament for the tree. Can a twosome find common ground and discover the true meaning of Christmas?
Bright and early on Saturday morning at the Sommerville fairgrounds, I slowly strolled along an aisle at my favorite flea market, pausing to look at special goodies that caught my eye. I halted when I saw a woman several booths ahead of me stoop in front of a table and drag a box to her feet. She reached inside the ragged cardboard container and pulled out something I knew deep, deep within my heart what I hoped to find for many years—a little Christmas angel.
I always hoped I would find a replacement and searched the dusty aisles of the Automobile Building, where the market set up the first weekend of every month. I dug through many a ripped carton or dirty bag and never saw anything close—until today.
Pressing my hands to my chest, I begged quietly, “Please. Please don’t take her. Please don’t.”
Word by Word 
She’s cute! We have some antique Christmas balls (my Great-grandmother’s) that I covet every year, lol
LikeLike
Hi, Jacquie! Oh I would love to see the Christmas balls. I have vintage glass ones and vintage jeweled flock balls. Did I say retro?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I bet your house is lovely during the holidays 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sp sweet. What a lovely story idea, Vicki!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi, Barbara! Sometimes, I will look at something and say “I think I’ll write a story about you.” So I did. And captured the memory of my mom, the decoration, and finding mine.
LikeLike
What a sweet memory! So happy you found your own angel and now have your mom’s also.
Good luck and God’s blessings
PamT
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hi, Pam! I was so happy to see the little girl. I’ve seen others, but have mine and didn’t rescue them. Hugs.
LikeLike
I love markets and thrift shops and rummage through the nick nacks. Once, I found an old Santa
Claus made out of felt and cotton. His coat and face was hand embroidered and as I held him, it seemed he was telling me all the stories of his past when he belonged to a family that pulled him out of a box every year and set him in a Christmas Tree to wait and watch. Your stories took me back to that feeling of love and the Ghost of Christmas Past.
LikeLike
Lovely story…thanks for sharing. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks, Joanne. I’m looking at my treasures right now.
LikeLike