O Christmas Tree

I grew up on a farm in Vermont. At Christmas time Dad would always tromp into the snowy woods with an ax to find our tree, often with all five of us kids following behind. It was a magical time because that tree was so much more than a tree. It was a treasured addition to our cozy living room.

The aromatic, woodsy smell of spruce needles quickly filled our little house. When the snow that still clung to the branches had melted and the tree was dry, the decorations were brought down from the attic. We little ones would ooh and ah over every ornament as our mother would unpack them. Big, fat colored lights went on first, followed by sparkly silver garland, then the breakable, glass ornaments.

I remember evenings when we would put a Christmas record on, grab coloring books and a box of Crayolas, and color by our tree. Amidst lots of giggling, we’d risk burning our fingers as we tried to get special effects by melting our crayons on the hot bulbs then quickly applying them to the page.

Crudely wrapped gifts began to appear. Gifts that we had bought for each other with our carefully saved allowances. The gifts from our parents (Santa) didn’t show up until December 24th after we were all tucked into bed.

The thrill we felt the following morning as we ventured into the living room and saw the tree was beyond compare. Overnight, our tree had birthed an abundance of beautifully wrapped gifts just waiting for us to delight in. And lined up on the back of the couch were five of our Dad’s biggest socks bursting with tiny treasures.

As an adult, my husband and I continued the practice of trudging through the woods to cut our trees. Although, now that I lived in Missouri, the tree species had to be cedar since pine and spruce were not to be found. No problem. It was still special for our children.

In 1980 we moved into a house that my husband designed. A rustic, post and beam structure with high ceilings and a loft over our living room. This gave me the opportunity to go crazy big with our trees for several years. They were so massive that we could only decorate the top of it by standing in the loft. For years, one section of the tree, about two-thirds of the way up remained mostly undecorated. We couldn’t reach it from below and we couldn’t reach it from above. We could only throw ornaments at it and hope they’d stick.

Eventually, we went with smaller trees, and then finally, when I grew sick of cleaning up cedar needles stuck in our carpet, we decided to, GASP, buy our trees! I chose the best Frasier firs that money could buy and I loved them.

Then, after meticulously untangling our lights for the umpteenth year from a tree that didn’t want to surrender them and watching thousands of needles drop to the floor after stabbing me countless times, I made the earth-shaking decision to get a (DOUBLE GASP) pre-lit FAKE tree! Something I vowed I’d never do!

But I love my snap-together, pre-lit tree. It’s still a magical addition to our living room every year and other than the lack of evergreen smell, it’s really not that different than my childhood tree.

A tree is just a tree. Change happens all through our lives and we must adapt. From my parents and siblings gathered around our tree, to just my husband and me, to our tiny babies, to our elementary monkeys, to our hilarious teenagers, to our grandbabies. Change is inevitable and we better adjust or get lost in the melancholy dust. ((Sorry, I coulnd’t resist the bad attempt at poetry)

But one glorious thing never changes. On that Christmas morning centuries ago, our King entered our space and set up His Kingdom. He is here today and He wants to be present in our lives. He invites us to wake up and SEE!

“The Kingdom of God is at hand!” (Mark 1:15) Do you see it?

As we celebrate His birth this year, let’s choose to open our eyes to the truths of His present Kingdom and His coming Kingdom. Find creative ways to fill your home with music, symbols, and traditions that will point people to Christ and make clear to others why He came.

“The true light, which gives light to everyone, was coming into the world. He was in the world, and the world was made through him, yet the world did not know him. He came to his own, and his own people did not receive him. But to all who did receive him, who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God, who were born, not of blood nor of the will of the flesh nor of the will of man, but of God. And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we have seen his glory, glory as of the only Son from the Father, full of grace and truth.” (John 1:9‭-‬14)