Such a tragic story this tale is, one I tell with hint of sadness in my voice of a time when the light danced freely on the back of this ornament.
It started a bit more than a moon ago, when I was sitting at my desk painting glass baubles for Christmas, that I had the sudden idea to fill one with beads, it would look so pretty I reasoned, especially with the lights twinkling around it. I pulled out the bead box and some glue. I started on my quest coating the inside of the bauble with glue and then pouring assorted beads into the bauble and rolling it round to distribute the beads.
However in all my grand visions, the beads and glue didn’t agree with me as I had wished them to, the beads didn’t want to stay where I wanted them to, the glue took many passes of the sun before it dried and even though the entire inside was not coated with beads, it did look very pretty with a mass of beads in the bottom and then drifts of beads on the slides, with the glue dried to the glass in sections with no beads looking like Jack Frost had visited the glass after a cold night.
I thought she was so much stronger than she actually was, a knock against my camera when I was lugging stuff out to photograph her one afternoon sent her shattering to the ground, I remember that moment like it was yesterday in a drawn out slow motion scene in my mind. I yelled for Mum, she rushed out thinking I had done something to my camera but alas not it just the sound of a girl who had accidentally murdered her most beautiful handmade ornament. Reminding myself of the times long before us when some of the only photographs people had taken of them was once they were dead, I decided to give her the same treatment.
So I present you the most gorgeous ornament that was robbed of the chance to live her purpose in life, to adorn our tree.