I love the Christmas season, though my natal family did not make a big deal of it. My parents lived through The Great Depression and were conditioned to frugality, and continued to live penny-wise. We lived in Deepstep, GA and advertising was not awash there. However, we did get the Sears Roebuck Christmas Book, which hypnotized me, taking my imagination far. The first Christmas tree that I remember in our house was real, but barely a tree—meagerly decorated. That Christmas Santa Claus left a toy boat, fruit, and hard candies. It was delightful!
In time, I somehow grew into the Christmas spirit, and wanted a proper Christmas tree. One day Mother was busy with my little sister, and daddy was at work. We lived on my grandfather’s farm; it was populated plentifully by trees, and among them were some cedar trees. I took a brazen step, not asking permission I ventured out; with axe in hand, and my dog Barkley in tow, we wandered among wooded areas of the farm. We searched for a the Christmas tree. Fortunately, reality hobbled my hopes for the perfect tree—because; 1) I would have to chop it down and, 2) I would have to get it from the woods down the dirt road to my house—with no help from Barkley.
I delighted in finding and bringing home—my first self-cut Christmas tree. I fell in love with that tree, because I had done it myself. I got the box of our meager decorations and set to work. I do not remember anyone helping me. I am sure I did a sloppy job, and my baby sister was too disinterested to be a critic. It was probably late afternoon and my mother was very likely tending the wood-stove preparing supper. But that Christmas we had a proper tree.
In time, Paige, the girls, and I shopped tree lots, wearing baby-packs, pushing strollers, and finally walking together. Growing older, they had opinions about choosing a Christmas tree. On one occasion we brought a tree home to set up in our den. While stringing lights, there was a rustle in the lower branches, and a small bird fluttered out—it was not a partridge!
Paige’s natal family made a big deal about Christmas; my faith pilgrimage had given me a deeper and broader appreciation of the reason for the season. Paige gently guided me in making the celebration central to our family—preparing home decorations, delicious foods, welcoming friends joining in celebration; We loved joyous music and Christmas Eve worship which far out-shines all shiny attractions.
Reflecting on that long ago day, I see I was overly presumptuous; I launched out with axe and Barkley, in search of a Christmas tree; it was as if I was the only person in the world. I took for granted that it was OK for me forage on granddaddy’s farm—and—chop down any tree I chose. In a word, I was embraced in Grace.
©Copyright 2024 Willis H. Moore
Willis, thanks for bringing back a childhood memory. My mother used to love it when my Dad would take us for a ride out in the countryside. No matter what time of year it was, Mom would be watching and every now and then would comment, “Look at that tree! It would make a great Christmas tree!”
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Willis, thanks for bringing back a childhood memory. My mother used to love it when my Dad would take us for a ride out in the countryside. No matter what time of year it was, Mom would be watching and every now and then would comment, “Look at that tree! It would make a great Christmas tree!”
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Willis, great story. My daddy would bring a tree from the woods. To get it straight in a bucket filled with sand and I don’t know what else probably rocks. We loved Christmas. We would go to bed with Daddy and Mama. After we went to sleep, they would get up put out a babydoll for us. We all had our our separate box for fruit and candy and we still carry on that tradition in my R family. Merry Christmas 🎄🎄❤️