My Mom’s Christmas tree was always beautiful. A perfectly shaped specimen purchased from a lot which she decorated elaborately with tightly nestled lights, Downy snow to tip the branches and tinsel strung piece-by-piece. Us kids did hang a bunch of family collected and handmade ornaments. (I wouldn’t be surprised if she rehung them in “better” locations after we went to bed, though.)
I enjoyed those Christmas trees, though. As a teenager/young adult, I would often get up early, enjoying a cup of hot chocolate or warm tea by the lights of the tree, alone and cozy in the soft darkness.
After I left home, I did not acquire a yearly Christmas tree. I didn’t really miss it, either. I never got much enjoyment out of decorating one - it felt like a chore – and a tree always made a mess. I was not at all interested in a “fake” tree. I was just not enamored with the Christmas tree idea. Eventually, I did buy a small, plastic tree from a department store. It was not pretty, but it came already decorated with a string of lights. I took it out of the box for the season and put it back in at the end. I don’t know what happened to that little tree.
***
I do enjoy the yearly ritual our own small family has created for celebrating the Holiday, though.
Every year, I threaten that we shouldn’t have a tree. I get called a grinch attempting to ruin Christmas.
Every year, my husband and our daughter go out on our 40 acres and choose a tree to cut down, set up inside and decorate for Christmas.
As she has gotten older, it’s been mostly up to our daughter to decorate it. Now it’s been she and her boyfriend responsible for the trimming of the tree the last two years. It’s a blast! Tons of giggling and banter, but our typically imperfect home-grown tree turns out beautifully.
And I couldn’t be more content to settle into what has become a meaningful tradition.
nice story, 40 acres?.. holy cow..