Heirloom ornaments connect genrations

Clockwise from above:  Al Angelini holding multicolored glass bells from his grandmother's tree (Elizabeth Colombini photo); the Belsnickel, a 10-inch papier-mache Santa, has been in Joan Becker's family for more than 100 years (Courtesy of Joan Becker); this glass ornament from the post-World War II era was likely manufactured in Germany or Czechoslovakia (Courtesy of Maureen Koehl) ; . A collection of 1950s glass ball ornaments that Bedford resident James McAlvanah's grandmother used to decorate his mother’s childhood trees. (Courtesy of James McAlvanah)

Vintage Christmas lights at the Angelini house (Courtesy of James McAlvanah)

By ELIZABETH COLOMBINI 

Every year fragile treasures wrapped in tissue paper wait for their annual moment in the spotlight. While modern ornaments gleam from store shelves, heirloom decorations carry the fingerprints of history and the warmth of generations gathered around the tree. 

For some, these delicate ornaments represent far more than holiday decor. They are family heirlooms that transform each Christmas into a reunion with deceased loved ones, reminding us that the most precious ornaments aren’t necessarily the most beautiful, but the ones that help us remember who we are and where we came from.

The Belsnickel

The favorite Christmas decoration in Joan Becker’s Lewisboro home is what she affectionately calls, “Old Santa,” a Belsnickel figurine that’s been in her family for over 100 years.

“The date on the bottom, which reads 1915, would have been their first Christmas together as a married couple,” Becker said, referring to her maternal grandparents who received the traditional German figure as a gift in the Van Nest neighborhood of the Bronx.

The 10-inch papier-mache Santa originally carried a feather branch, though Becker recalls with a laugh that it “disappeared when one of my younger sisters swapped it for something.” The Belsnickel is a form of St. Nicholas from southwest Germany, a tradition that made sense for Becker’s family heritage.

“We’ve been in New York for almost 200 years, but originally were from Germany,” she said.

Her grandmother’s stories of hiding in the hayloft in the stables on 42nd Street when the Union Army was deployed to suppress the 1863 draft riots during the Civil War connect her to generations of New York history. After her mother died in 2008, Belsnickel came to Becker. Now living in Lewisboro, she brings it out from the attic each year to be lovingly displayed. Despite some lost glitter and that missing feather, Becker said, “He’s in pretty good shape for being 110 years old.”

Silent Night Bauble and Tinsel

A delicate glass ornament no bigger than 2 ½-inches in diameter holds decades of memories for Maureen Koehl, Lewisboro’s town historian. The tiny bauble from the post-World War II era once adorned her parents’ Christmas tree and features “Silent Night” printed on it along with a snowy scene and church. Like many ornaments from that period, it was likely manufactured in Germany or Czechoslovakia and purchased at a store like Macy’s.

“A box of 12 ornaments might have cost you $2,” Koehl said. “They were very inexpensive.”

She has displayed the hand-blown glass ornament on her own tree for approximately 40 years, after collecting her parents’ decorations when their house was emptied out. Though slightly faded with time and having survived a catastrophic tree crash, the ornament remains a treasured piece.

Koehl’s commitment to preserving Christmas traditions extends beyond ornaments. She also uses lead-based tinsel from the 1970s, a gift from a friend who found a stash before it was discontinued in 1972.

“Every year when I take the tree down, I have to take the tinsel off strand by strand and put it back in a safe place,” she said.

The vintage tinsel “hangs so much nicer” than modern alternatives and “catches the light” in a way plastic simply can’t replicate, Koehl said.

Classic Christmas balls

When James McAlvanah of Bedford was a curious kid poking around his parents’ attic, he stumbled upon a box labeled “Nana’s Christmas ornaments.” Inside lay a collection of quintessential 1950s glass ball ornaments that his grandmother had used to decorate his mother’s childhood trees. The vintage baubles featured vibrant stripes in pink, blue, gold, and other jewel tones that wrap around their delicate surfaces.

“As soon as I found those, I was like, ‘Oh, I need this to be back on our Christmas tree,’” McAlvanah said.

His parents were less enthusiastic, but undeterred, McAlvanah became the family’s self-appointed Christmas curator.

“I was a little bit of a brat. I would hide the other ornaments, and my parents were like, ‘Why are you curating our Christmas tree?’ And I was like, ‘Just you wait, guys. Just you wait.’”

The vintage ornaments are remarkably fragile. “If you put the slightest bit of pressure on one of those vintage ones, it just turns to dust,”  McAlvanah said.

The delicate glass has “a smoothness to it, there’s a softness to it,” with painting that appears lighter and sheerer than today’s heavy finishes, he noted. Finding these ornaments created a profound connection.

“It was like, ‘Oh my God, she is still here,’” referring to his grandmother. “That’s something that I can have of hers forever.”

He and his sister, Nicole, have divided the collection between boxes marked “J” and “N,” though McAlvanah confesses the ornaments “might shuffle around” between Christmases.

Glass bells

Al Angelini’s living room in his New Castle home is like stepping into a curated museum. Splayed across his dining room table are vintage Christmas lights and ornaments collected from around the world. Delicate glass figurals from Japan dating back to the 1930s sit adjacent to working bulbs from Massachusetts made in 1927, along with elaborate decorations from Germany, Austria and England. Yet among this impressive collection, two pieces hold the deepest meaning: multicolored glass bells and a simple opaque lantern, both from his grandmother’s tree.

“By far and away, these are my favorite ornaments,” Angelini said, holding the two delicate bells he believes are from Poland. One is marked “shiny brite,” a popular company from the 1950s, though the writing has worn off over time. “I like multicolor. I like the shape. It reminds me of Christmases when I was a kid. They were always on the tree.”

One bell hung on his mother’s tree, the other on his grandmother’s.

Equally treasured is an opaque glass lantern approximately 100 years old that once adorned his grandmother’s manger.

“That’s my favorite even though it’s the least impressive one,” he said.

The lantern no longer lights up after his mother had run it every year on full power. 

“It looked good when it was lit,” he said, remembering how it glowed above the nativity scene, connecting three generations through its warm light.