There is a lot of sparkle around these days. Glitter-edged teddy bears, sparkly gel pens, sweaters with sequined appliqué, and let’s not forget those “fairy threads” women can weave into their hair. How did we come to be so steeped in sparkles?
Looking back on my youth, the only sparkle I remember was the wording in advertisements exhorting wives to scrub harder to achieve a gleam on the kitchen linoleum. Insofar as sparkly things to wear or carry? Not so much . . . unless you count the few times my mom painstakingly sewed individual sequins onto fabric as a special trim.
Thus, the amount of sparkle in evidence this past weekend dwarfs everything from my childhood! You see, our granddaughter danced her debut in a “Nutcracker Tea” staged by the University of North Carolina School of the Arts. Condensed to a length perfect for small children, “Nutcracker Teas” make great fundraisers for dance companies. The audience enjoys the iconic dances from Tchaikovsky’s ballet with a slightly different narrative, followed by ridiculous amounts of sweets and a chance for kids to make crafts from glittery pipe cleaners, glittery paper, and sparkly stickers!
What a joy it was to watch waves of little girls in sparkly dresses arrive for each of the four productions. Some of the moms sparkled too, while the little boys shone in their church shoes and bow ties. Everything on the boutique table sparkled: glitter-adorned nutcrackers, tree ornaments, and glittery hair ribbons. While helping with clean-up afterwards, I was grateful that someone else had the job of cleaning the glitter off the floors.
Still, the desire to sparkle is nothing new, and there’s a bit of history behind it too. Diamonds, of course, provide the best sparkle, but the invention of rhinestones in the late 19th century made sparkling a lot cheaper. Decorative sequins from real gold date arose in the 3rd millennium BC, although today’s plastic sequins link back to flecks of gold used for coins in the chaos of post-Napoleonic years.
Then there’s the glitter. Ah, that messy glitter! Its invention is credited to an American machinist named Henry Ruschmann who cut up shiny fragments of mylar sheets in 1934. The idea, though, can be traced back to ancient times when stones like malachite or mica would be crushed and scooped up for their beauty.
Certain monarchs loved to sparkle too. Perhaps the best example would be the Hapsburg Empress Elizabeth (“Sissi”) of the Austro-Hungarian Empire who remains beloved in the same way as our Princess Di. Sissi had a penchant for star-shaped sparkles (made from diamonds, of course). They cascaded from her thick, dark hair, shone from her earlobes, and wound around her neck and arms. One can buy reasonably priced rhinestone replicas of Sissi’s jewelry in Austrian palace gift shops. I confess to having indulged in them twice.
Yet, Sissi’s own life was full of heartbreak: in the end she was assassinated in 1898 by a knife-wielding anarchist while walking with her lady-in-waiting in broad daylight. All those diamond sparkles guaranteed nothing. Sissi’s fate is not a festive topic, but it does give me a transition to a few other comments about sparkle in today’s world.
On the positive side, gravitating towards shiny things is a natural extension of our desire to reflect and be bathed in light. Throughout most of time, common people experienced sparkles solely in nature: drops of dew, crystals of ice, and the twinkling of stars. The acquisition of material goods like cut glass vessels, known in ancient times but developed commercially in the Renaissance, marked new stages of wealth in European culture. Even today, we stand in awe before the leaded crystal chandeliers in palaces like Versailles and Schönbrunn.
Still, with all this sparkle, one longs most for the sparkle from the human eye. That is where we find real beauty. Consider the gleam in a child’s eye after reciting a poem by heart or the multiplication tables. A different shine twinkles when that child has done a good job of raking the front yard or folding an immense pile of towels. And what about the sparkle that glistens when a child hears a wonderful story for the first time or learns that a favorite cousin is finally coming to visit!
Contrast any of those sparkles with the dullness of eyes when children are placed for long stretches in front of a video screen. Or, if you’d rather bypass the issue of children and technology, consider that look children have when they must wait long periods without the invigorating aid of books or pads and pencils for drawing. Children cannot mask their feelings: their minds, hearts, and spirits either sparkle, or they don’t.
So, as we move through these final days of Advent, let us rejoice that we are born with a natural inclination to sparkle. Word it as you wish, but I would call it our innate desire to reflect the light of our Creator. Remember, too, that while we can sparkle individually, we sparkle brighter in conjunction with one another.
If it has been ages since a sparkle glistened in your eye, try some ways to bring it back. Listen together with a child to Peter and the Wolf or read him Mike Mulligan and the Steam Shovel. Take a big risk and reread chapters of The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe for yourself! Bring out a picture album that holds happy memories. Brew a tea spiced with cloves and oranges to scent the air in your kitchen. Take a brisk morning walk when, seriously, you’d rather stay under the covers. These things, and others known only to you, stand a good chance of replanting a sparkle in a recalcitrant eye.
We are created with an endless capacity for joy. Life’s circumstances can dull the glitter of that joy, but it is sturdier than we realize and awaits our return. This is a good time of year to try it out.
Post-Script (for those who would indulge me): our granddaughter comported herself well in all four performances, from her antics as a mouse threatening Clara to the choreography of her band of mini-angels as they circled and repositioned themselves while big angels danced amongst them. And yes, today, her eyes still are sparkling from the joy of that experience.
