‘The story of my dad’s ‘pink thing’ Christmas ornament’

This story has passed down through my family over decades. Once upon a time many, many years ago when Mum and Dad were newly engaged (some time around 1945), there was always a big shindig at my grandparents’ house on Christmas Eve. Being the darlings of the Moonee Valley racing set at the time, this soiree was attended by many, so it behooved the largest of Christmas trees decorated to the hilt; the annual airing (and cleaning) of the best silverware, lace tablecloths and napery; and the gold-rimmed burgundy rose dinner set.

My dad worked on Christmas Eve and just before leaving the office, Nanna telephoned him to ask if he would “please pick up extra decorations for the tree” on his way home as it was looking a tad sparse. Dad agreed, then hurried out the door for a bit of ‘Ho Ho Ho’ cheers with colleagues at the local six o’clock swill.

About five minutes before the publican called, “Time gentlemen, please”, and somewhat under the weather from beer with whiskey chasers, Dad suddenly remembered the decorations. He dashed out, hurried along Bourke Street to GJ Coles department store just as the staff were about to close the doors. He mumbled his story about decorations and one obliging staff member showed him the last decoration that had not been packed away and carried to storage for the Boxing Day sales — a fragile glass ‘pink thing’ with a broken tip that looked like an upside down church spire.

Dad, somewhat crestfallen, babbled about there not being anything else. “It’sh a BIG Chrishmash tree!” he hiccupped.

We don’t know where the attendant pulled them from, but out came two charming glass birds with fibreglass tails.

“Here you go mate. Merry Christmas, no charge,” the attendant said.

Dad happily staggered off to catch the next train home, which he duly managed without fault, and presented his festive contributions to his future mother-in-law. I don’t know exactly the turn of conversation after that but it was presumed to be a very lucky day that my father got to marry my mother the following year.

And so, down through time, Dad’s Pink Thing and Mum’s Birds as they became known, have decorated every Christmas tree that we’ve ever had. They are now so fragile I’m a bit wary of cleaning them. The birds’ tails are falling out; one of them has lost its spring clip that clasps it to a branch, but the love for these decorations from another era is huge, and it just wouldn’t be Christmas without them.

Our daughter loves them and will pass this story along to her two sons when they are a bit older, as they live interstate we don’t get to see them often. I’ve just put up Dad’s Pink Thing and Mum’s Birds on our Christmas tree again and this year; our grandsons are visiting! In this technology age, I wonder what they’ll make of them? I’m betting b-o-r-i-n-g, but who knows — it’s a magical time of year!

Do you have any special ornaments adorning your Christmas tree? Are there stories like this in your family?

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