I'm cold, so I turn the thermostat on the heating a little bit higher . After just a few minutes, the room is filled with cozy warmth. My gaze falls on the small Christmas tree that is next to my desk. I always tinted that there is no plastic tree in my living room on Christmas Eve. Well, time writes its own stories.While I look at the little plastic tree, in the background sounds the old Christmas carols from the vinyl record .I open a small box.
Like a preciousness, I then peel the little treasure out of the paper that protects it.Like back then, when I was a small child and decorated the Christmas tree with the family, the fragile christmas-glitterball is know laying in my hand again. Their shine seems to have passed. The artificial snow that adorned them and always reminded me of white coconut flakes are long disapeared. As I carefully hang it on the tree, my father's words accompany me. Back then, his eyes fell on the little Christmas tree glitterball in my hands. At that time it didn't seem beautiful enough to hang on the tree, because it didn't glitter like the others. For a moment, it was as if my father's thoughts were traveling back in time and connecting him to images that only he could see in his heart.
Then he started his telling!
It was the first Christmas after the end of the war. In every living room or kitchen there was a colorfully decorated Christmas tree, but the light that is so important at Christmas was mostly missing. In the war years, no glimmer was allowed to fall outside, and although there was no longer a ban, only little light penetrated out of the houses.The windows were almost completely boarded up, because most of the window panes had been broken in the bombardment. Glass from some picture frames replaced a few of these panes to let in a little light in the apartments. Through these panes of glass you could see the light of the flickering candles in the houses when they were burning on the Christmas tree for a short time.
They gave the colorful glass balls a magical glow when the warm light of the candles touched them. The wax light sources had to be used sparingly so that they were sufficient to at least illuminate the Christmas evenings. So most of the time they sat surrounded by darkness. On such evenings the darkness was not only around the people, they also felt sadness within themselves, because they were facing an uncertain future.But in the light of the candles, which were reflected in the shine of the colorful glass balls, confidence and hope grew! "
(Story based on the memoirs of my father Eilerich Bloem)
This little glitterball decorated the Christmas tree when my father was a child. It was a time of hardship and fear, because nobody knew what the new future would bring. The only thing left for the people was hope and mutual love. Today I want it to hang on my Christmas tree as a symbol of gratitude and confidence!
I wish everyone a merry and peaceful Christmas!
