Lesson of the Broken Ornament

The tree was trimmed, the lights were strung, and the stockings took their place above the fireplace. We didn't have one of those bare-bottomed trees... you know, with the ornaments well out of reach of curious toddler-sized hands. I was so sure I could sway, convince, and teach my children (or, specifically the wild toddler) not too touch the ornaments.

In fact, I was mildly successful. I even made up a silly sing-song chant:
Once the ornament is on the tree,
it stays on the tree.
​Beautiful tune too, let me tell you. Even my older son could sing along to this ditty.

I thougtht I could score this as a victory. I lovingingly won the battle that most parents face when it's time to keep a stash of glass balls in the living room.

Until this morning. There it was, hidden in between branches: a pink glass ornament with a honeycomb pattern. A lime-size chunk of glass was missing from the ornament. No one told me that an ornament was broken nor did I hear any crashing noises, but the lesson was loud and clear.

I was so focused on teaching them not to touch the ornaments, that I forgot why they touch ornaments so much. They are curious, and ornaments are pretty and interesting. I didn't embrace this quality. I didn't teach them how to look.

I wasn't mad about the ornament. In fact, I was a little sad. I pictured my boys enjoying a moment together and looking at the tree happily. But then I pictured them scared after they broke the ornament. Scared of getting in trouble, scared of disappointing me. It was an eye opener to me.

Remember, remember to think of every situation from your child's eyes. Don't be so narrow-minded that we forget to factor in the world the way a child sees it.


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