It started out as just the two of us. With an artificial tree even though we both preferred real. Because we lived in an apartment. And we weren’t even home for Christmas.
We bought ornaments in bulk. The kind that all match. All red and green.
Except for one, at first. A perfect wedding gift. And I adored how it looked. All grown up. All just so.
And then we moved from one apartment to another. And then to a home. And we got an out of the ground tree. And showcased all of our matching ornaments and white lights. And that one sparkler. And a replica of the Texas Capitol. As a reminder of the first year of our marriage.
And then, before we knew it, he was born. And so we took a handed-down tradition. Of picking out ornaments. And we selected carefully, that little bear for our little Barr. Accompanying the matchies and the sparkler, and the Capitol.
And then the next year, he helped pick. And helped hang him on a low branch. So he could both look and pretend, as long as the tree would allow.
And then the middlest came along. And we picked out one for his first Christmas.
And as another year passed, they were both picking. And though it seems to make the storekeepers extremely uneasy, we let the boys pick to their hearts’ content.
So some years, it’s about what they love at the time. Like Superheroes. Or art. Or Mickey.
And others, well, they are more selected based on the curb appeal of the shopping experience. And the entertainment value provided.
With another year, the two boys started creating. And their tiny labors of love took prized branch placement.
And then, another boy was born. Reminding us to always believe. And adding to the excitement of the picking-out process.
Each of those treasures would not be treasures to some. But each one tells a story of the years gones by. And so they will remain prized possessions from now until forever.
This year, as I stepped back and looked, I could measure the passing of time collectively on our tree. And though it felt as if I’d just picked out the matching ornaments, and plopped them in my red cart, somehow, enough time has passed that the greens and reds have become the fillers. And the ones purchased by the big-hearted boys are now stealing the show.
Because I forgot about that, when we began the tradition of it all. That while we were growing our family… That as we were going year by year… One ornament first. And then two. And then, then more…. we were also growing a family tree. Rooted with memories from trunk to tip. Branching out from the two of us. And sharing the spirit of our sons. And a sentimentality for the season. It may not be fancy. A true hodgepodge of shapes, sizes, and themes. You wouldn’t find it gracing the cover of a magazine. It is most definitely imperfect. But there’s no mistaking, as I take inventory of what’s hung on the branches, that it is ours. I can see our family’s small history. I can embrace the nostalgic allure and kitschy feel. And I can read the story of our family thus far. And trace it back to our very beginning.
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas tree,
You are the tree most loved!
How often you give us delight
In brightly shining Christmas light!
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas tree,
You are the tree most loved!
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