I haven’t had a real tree in years. It’s really a lot of trouble and let’s face it, you can get that wonderful smell from a Sentsy and not have to vacuum pine needles for six months.
Growing up in Missouri, a few days before Christmas we went into the woods and chopped down a cedar tree to decorate. I can remember fragile glass ornaments—some shaped like bells—glass bead garland, and plenty of silver icicles hanging from every branch. One year we strung popcorn to make a different kind of garland. It looked okay, but I would have rather eaten the popcorn with plenty of butter and salt.
I can remember ribbon candy, peanuts in the shell, chocolates, orange slice candy, and apples and oranges. I also remember that when we had mixed nuts, they didn’t come in a can, they came in a sack from the grocery store. Each of us was responsible for cracking and picking any nut we planned on eating. I always like the filberts, or hazel nuts, although it seemed redundant to buy them when we each fall, we had our fill from the bush behind the house.
Another thing that stands out in my memory is how worried I would get when it didn’t snow on Christmas Eve. I was just sure Santa wouldn’t be able to make it to our house. I understood sledding, and just didn’t get that flying through the air part. Our sleds had to have snow and I figured Santa’s sled wouldn’t make the trip without a smooth layer of snow to glide through.
Eventually, we had an artificial tree at home. It was one of those silver trees that were popular in the late fifties and then were worth a fortune at flea markets many years later. I’m sure it was the nostalgic value and not the actual value of the trees.
It’s hard to believe how Christmas trees, at least for the most part, still look the same, but have also changed. I now have a fiber optic tree. I don’t spend hours decorating it, I just pull it out of the box and fluff it up, plug it in and let it twirl with its multi-colored lights and sparkling ornaments.
At least when Christmas is over, I don’t have to remove the ornaments (and million icicles) before I haul it back into the woods. Nope, I just unplug it, cram it back into the box and take it downstairs until next year. With the Sentsy candle, I can smell Christmas year round, if that’s what I want.
Copyright © Dec 2010 L. S. Fisher