The Story Our Christmas Tree Tells

When I was a child one of the things that I always remember with a huge smile and a happy heart is going to the woods with my Dad and Mom to cut down our tree for Christmas. I loved looking at all the trees while we were trying to decide on just the right one. Somehow though it never looked the same once we got it put up - either it suffered a little deformation on the journey home dragging it through the woods or it would be much shorter or entirely too tall when we got it ready to put in the trusty old green metal tree stand with red legs on it. But by the time we got done decorating it; well it always looked perfect. Every year I say I'm going to take the kids up into the woods and carry on that tradition with them, but I always end up taking the easier way out. Next year I'm going to motivate myself more to do it because it just adds more of a special touch when you pick it out, cut it down and haul it home; only to be either pleased or scratching your head over the end results of it's delivery into the living room.
This year was the second year since I have lived in my house that we have gotten a real tree for Christmas. For years I used an artificial tree that took hours to shape and sort out matching branches and then when Christmas was over there was the glorious task of trying to figure out how to make it fit back in the box. The whole process of packing it back up took an act of congress and two Philadelphia lawyers to figure it out. I just finally got tired of stressing over branches breaking and such from all the years of bending and twisting the branches to shape them just right. So last year I made the executive decision to get a real tree. We have gone to a Christmas tree farm both years to get the trees. It's not the same by any means as trekking off into the woods to get one, but it was still fun. I took the girls with me this year to pick it out, and with careful deliberation of sizing up the tree and visualizing it in our living room, we finally agreed on one to take home. We had the tree wrapped and loaded on top of the good ole Mazda Tribute and then took off on our journey home looking like Clark Griswold and his lovely family when they were hauling that monstrosity of a tree home on their station wagon.
Once we got the tree unloaded and put in the house we sawed and sawed on it to trim it down a little. I may have overestimated my living room ceiling's potential of housing that big tree, but nonetheless we got it up and the ropes were cut. (Let me insert a little friendly advice here...when you bring a tree in your house that resembles the size of the one that stands in the oval office - you need to stand clear when the ropes are cut, or well.....you get the picture and I imagine it's not a pretty one if it's the actual picturing of me with pine needles in my mouth, hair, down my shirt....etc.)
The lights were put on (which are never enough in my eyes - I like to have our tree projecting enough light that a plane could make an emergency landing on my house with all the light emitting from it). Once the lights were on the tree it was time to drag out the big box of ornaments. This is one of my favorite things to do because I love handing the kids ornaments that are a reflection of memories for them from all the years past. Every year I tell them stories about some of the ornaments and how they came about being such an important part of the tradition of Christmas. I have a beautiful pink ornament that has been hung on the tree for 23 years that is one of the favorites given to my oldest daughter Jess for her first Christmas from Auntie Charlotte. Then there are some of the extra special ornaments that have became a little weathered and worn over the years that are made simply of construction paper and yarn. The kids always express themselves with the usual line - "Mom why do you keep these???" It's simple...they are a memory of their childhood and a symbolism of their younger years when they would come busting in the door from school or church proudly displaying the masterpiece that they worked so hard on. I can remember the story behind every handmade ornament that I carefully re-pack every year after it is taken off the tree. I hope by telling these stories to the kids over and over that there will be a seed planted in their minds so that they can pass the stories onto their own children.
When I was younger my Mom always had our handmade ornaments on the tree along with a gazillion pieces of tinsel that we would love to blow off our hands onto the tree. When we would take the tree down and Dad would haul it outside there would be a trail of that tinsel from the living room all the way to where Dad took the tree. As much as I remember the tinsel, those old ornaments that my Mom hung on the tree with pride are still the things that bring back the sweetest memories for me when I see my kids hang their ornaments up.
I'm not sure how the tradition of the tree ever got started. But I do know that when we put that big tree in our living room that it lights up the holidays with it's presence and the memories that hang on that tree every year make my heart smile every time I look at them. Whether it be a store brought ornament bought by a friend many years ago or a tattered and worn piece of faded construction paper - I simply love the story that our Christmas tree tells.