A good story ruined

Here's another story from my recent visit to see my mother.

Years ago, we used to all go to visit my mother around Thanksgiving (before we had been through some fierce November storms and moved our visits to the summer). Part of the trip involved our going to see my relatives. During one of those trips, my Aunt June showed us a clock that she had saved from my grandmother's throw-away pile. It had belonged to my great grandfather and was a small mantle clock. It was spring powered with a pendulum and hadn't run for years. We had another relative who worked on clocks for a hobby and Aunt June paid him to work on it. After many tries, he said he could do no more to get it going again and Aunt June just set it on a shelf because it still looked nice and fit in with her style of decorating. She kept trying to get it to run (making sure the spring was wound and moving the pendulum) but it wouldn't go until one year near Christmas. Amazingly, after years of not working, it started ticking again! After Christmas, though, the clock stopped. It didn't run again until the next Christmas when it started ticking again. This went on for a number of years. I always told people about this and tried to imagine what would cause it - from my great grandfather's ghost to changes in temperature and humidity around Christmas.

Well, during this visit, Aunt June got to telling stories and one of them was how funny her mother (my grandmother) was. And how Grandma believed in the magical Christmas clock. She even sent people over to see it and Aunt June thought this was strange. I didn't say anything but let her continue. "Mom (my grandmother) was so funny. She believed there was something mysterious making that clock run only around Christmas time. Well, it only ran at Christmas because that's when I wound it. After Christmas, I just let it run down and didn't try to start it again until next Christmas." Boy, was I disappointed. I wanted that clock to be special. I wanted there to be some fascinating explanation about its strange behavior. In the end, it was just ordinary. I didn't tell her that I'd also been fooled by the clock story.

I guess in the end, the clock is special. It's old and it still works. Aunt June thought enough about it to save it from destruction and she spent a lot of time (with our clock-repairing relative) and money to get it working again. And it was a nice looking clock and went well with Aunt June's living room. I guess we shouldn't look down on something (or someone) just because it doesn't measure up to what we think it should be. I wish I had a picture of the clock. I forgot to take my camera when I visited Aunt June this year. Maybe next time. And, I shouldn't forget, the clock hadn't run for many years and only started to run again around Christmas. There's a little magic there.