Almost lost amid the clutter and glow of Christmas, so fragile yet its delicacy would be missed. 25 or maybe 35 years old, my precious red reindeer is carefully wrapped in tissue at season’s end ~ tucked away with all the others.
Where did it come from?
Which store?
Which city?
Was it a gift?
Details lost in the clutter and rush of time.
’til my little glass reindeer has become its own memory.
“When you look at a piece of delicately spun glass you think of two things: how beautiful it is and how easily it can be broken.”
~ Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie
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