The Christmas Trees
If you are a radical Environmentalist, please stop reading. Skip this post and come back on Thursday.
….waiting….waiting…..
OK, they’re gone. It’s safe.
Me: “Hi. My name is Christine, and I’m a Tree-cutter.”
You: “Hi, Christine!”
Every year, we visit a local tree farm and cut our own real pine christmas tree.
In my head, this happens on the day after Thanksgiving. I think we’ve actually hit that schedule a grand total of once. This year. But growing up, the Day After Thanksgiving = Holy Tree Acquisition Day, so in my imagination, that’s still when we get the tree.
Christmas Past
I didn’t even know Black Friday existed until I married Mark.
No, when I was a kid, Santa at the end of the Macy’s Parade truly meant the opening of Christmas Season.
Opening Day. Bigger than a broadway premiere. Bigger than the start of baseball season.
Box after box, emerging from the depths of every closet, spilling ornaments and garlands and stockings. And nutcrackers….oh, the nutcrackers.
Bing Crosby crooning. The smell of pine. The sticky sap that no soap can truly defeat. Random limbs of green wire and white chemical particulate Snow-covered branches strewn across the floor.
But wait. How can you have the smell of pine AND artificial limbs, you might ask?
You remember Those People? The Two Tree Family. The people with a tree in every room?
Yeah, us.
The Fancy Tree–artificially perfect limbs, fake snow, blue lights, silver ornaments (in retrospect, does that make it a Hannukah Tree?). Formal. Stiff. Untouchable.
The Family Tree, so recently alive, with mismatched colored lights and all the crazy ornaments that we made when we were kids, and maybe a squirrel living in the top branches. That was the tree I loved. Warm. Authentic. That tree tells a family story.
Full disclosure: that was also the tree that was loaded with presents on Christmas morning. But still..
Christmas Present
Every year, we have added to the collection by scouring the after-holiday sales to pick up Deeply Discounted Christmas Crap. Last year, in the amazing after Christmas sales, Mark picked up a fake tree. 75% off.
Now before all of you scream “blasphemy!!” (like I did), I’d like to clarify that it’s not to *replace* the real tree….oh, no, I was raised better than that.
We have simply moved up to the big league.
A tree in practically every room (yes, each of the girls has a mini-tree for her room).
Lights. Ornaments. Garland.
Yeah. That’s who we are now. Two Tree People.
Now I need a team of personal elves to keep it all looking nice throughout the season.
What story does your tree tell? Leave a comment!
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About Christine
I am a writer, a project manager, and a corporate refugee with a heart for orphans around the world. My two daughters were adopted from Ukraine at ages 12 and 14. I post about writing, chasing dreams, and making a difference in the world, and sometimes I share fun snippets of fiction in-progress.
great one Christine!
most Christmas trees tell a story… and also have a story to tell !!
Think of the tree as the witness of the season… what story do you want your tree to tell?
That’s my story.