Last year, our Christmas tree was a one foot tall, pre-decorated, battery powered thing that sat on our coffee table. We got it on loan from one of my friends who said “every body needs a Christmas tree, especially for their first Christmas.” This year, our tree is still a borrowed tree, but it’s taller and we got to choose our own decorations. I think it is pretty neat. We spent about $20.00 at Wal-Mart and got what reminds me of a department store tree on a small scale. It has red and gold ribbons weaved through the branches and these swirly, glittery gold things that hang down. Mixed in are some red bulbs (of the shatterproof variety, in case Johnathan gets a hold of one). I was surprised. My mom, who loaned us the tree, said that she would have given us some decorations to put on the tree, but somehow, I just wanted a tree that was “our” tree.
I remember when I was a kid. It wasn’t officially Christmas time until we put up the tree. We had a bunch of handmade ornaments that were part of the tree every year. We all helped to put things on the branches and make it “beautiful.” Filled with kindergarten pictures preserved in ceramics and clothespin angels and silvery tinsel garland, I didn’t think any thing could be better. In my mind, a tree that wasn’t like that was no kind of Christmas tree at all. Now, with our little family, our tree is the most beautiful tree I have ever seen. And I think it’s because it’s OUR tree.
I know the Christmas tree is a really trivial and meaningless part of Christmas in the grand scheme of things. It has little do with the meaning of the season. It really is just a sentimental thing for me. The little kid in my heart says it’s not really Christmas until the tree is up. So, now, our home is all ready for Christmas, even though I haven’t done any shopping yet and there is nothing to go under the tree. It’s Christmas in my heart right now.