I have always loved Christmas, and over the years, whenever I go on a trip, wherever it is that I go, I spend time seeking obscure little shops, always hoping to find that one very special little holiday item that makes an entire trip worthwhile. Last winter, in a little town near Prague, in a tiny store in an ancient building on a tiny street in a warren of medieval streets, I glimpsed a beautiful Christmas tree. Topping this tree, glowing and seemingly floating above it, was a stunningly gorgeous angel. Honestly, I have never seen anything like it.
I walked into the store and I met a most extraordinary elderly woman. Actually, picture a little old lady in a fairytale, and you get the idea. Her name is Katya Kinsel. Having the same name broke the ice, and we hit it off right away—except that her English was bad, and my Czech almost nonexistent. Nevertheless, we sat happily and enthusiastically trying to talk over several cups of mead and honeyed tea, and all the while my eyes kept wandering to the angel floating above the tree.
Katya must have noticed because eventually she told me about the angel. I managed to get some sense of her story, at least I think I did, given the language barrier and that it is so utterly fantastic. Some years ago, on the winter solstice, Katya took a shortcut through the forest. She knew the way, she often took it to her little country cottage, but this time she got lost. After wandering for hours the winter sun began to set and Katya became anxious. Just then, as she was thinking she’d never find her way, an old man appeared out of the forest shadows. His face was worn, his coat was torn, but his eyes were deep and clear. “To find your better angel,” he said with a twinkle, “find the shooting star and follow the magic stream.” Next thing she knew, Katya saw a light that wasn’t there before, followed a bend in a path that was now there, and discovered herself standing at her cottage door.
Katya wasn’t sure what had happened, but she felt she knew what she had to do. She had to find her better angel. But how? And then suddenly it was all clear. She crafted an angel, then another. Soon she had a cupboard of angels. But sadly, no perfect celestial angel appeared amongst them, and no perfect celestial angel appeared to her, like she had half expected one might.
And then she realized that that was the point, that there was no such thing as the perfect better angel, untouchable and celestial. Because each one of us is different, each one of our better angels is different.
After her epiphany, Katya stopped making angels. I tried to convince her that this was a mistake, that the world can’t possibly have too many angels, but she replied that she was old and her hands were weary.
But, she suggested, I could help. I saw the magic in these angels and I couldn’t say no. So here I am, offering you Katya’s angels made in my New York studio. Each one is an angel that someone needs.
Yes, I know, utterly fantastic. I only ask that you take my word until you see these angels, our better angels. One of them may be the one you need. So look, because you never know where you will meet your better angel.
Kate Kinsel