What a strange custom it is to cut millions of trees and haul them inside for a couple of weeks every year. Yet there is just something magical about Christmas trees, sparkling with lights and filling the entire house with the wonderful scent of pine. We have decorated some of the funniest, oddest looking trees, cut in forests, ditches and fields. Last year the trunk was crooked, which was a source of great amusement to all. That tree was the subject of constant jokes for the entire holiday. However it was not our most scraggly tree. One year I actually coerced my husband into drilling a hole in the trunk of one sad looking tree and wedging one of the lower branches into a huge gaping space, to make the tree look a little less like a Charlie Brown sort of tree. My creative thinking actually redeemed that Christmas tree. Yet it really does not matter what the bare tree looks like, for once decorated, we invariably sit in adoration, basking in the colourful magic.
This year, because my husband is recuperating from surgery, the kids bought a beautiful, cultured, farm grown tree off a Christmas Tree Lot. It is perfection, perhaps too perfect but I won't breathe a word of complaint to my offspring.
I salute Christmas trees
With an ode to all trees be they stubby or tall,
Real or fake,
Green or sparkly silver for
All trees are creative signs of hope.
Lit with tiny lights,
Each light a flaming symbol to new life.
It does not matter if we are secret cynics the rest of the year,
Our Christmas trees are metaphors for our family celebrations, Evoking Christmas past,
Standing radiant as Christmas present and
Promising Christmases yet to come.