The Christmas of Three Trees:
Why we decided to have so many trees that Christmas, I don't
know. No matter, we ended up with one scrawny tree.
The first tree, our usual fiber optic artificial, we loaded
with glittery Christmas balls of blue, green, red, white and any color we
liked. The bright filaments of light reflected color throughout the living
room.
In one corner of the dining room, we put up a five-foot pine,
which we decorated in the traditional way with a star on top. Homemade
decorations from generations filled it from top to bottom.
The final tree would remind you of a Charlie Brown scrawny,
little, crooked tree. We decorated with what lights it would hold and still
stand. I filled it with oodles of plastic candy canes and stapled the top to
the wall to keep it standing. A paper angel with glitter hid the afixed top of
the evergreen. I did forget to mention we cut it from a sappling in my parents
pasture.
We'd developed a tradition of stockings and sometimes the
stuffers didn't fit inside. That year everyone brought enough stockings for
each of their family. It meant a break in tradition for we generally only did
the single set plus one family filled mine and one my husband's. Everyone
arrived and remarked how cheerful the house looked. They laid their stockings
under the big tree and threw their coats on the bed.
As the eighteen members filled our small home, the smells of
turkey, ham, apple and cherry pies, and ofcourse, the usual pumpkin filled the
house.
I heard the first yell. "Get in here and get these
stockings moved. The tree is shorting out and one just scorched." My
husband demanded sternly.
The rush to the tree almost knocked it over as the man of
the home struggled to unplug it. Christmas balls fell on the floor and
shattered. My fear of broken glass filled me with anxiety and I screamed at all
the children to stay away from it. After only twenty minutes, which seemed like
an hour, the whole mess was gone. All stockings and gifts moved to the pine
tree full of homemade ornaments.
"Help," my daughter called.
"What now?" I asked through my frustration at the
interruption.
"Needles are falling all over the floor. The tree is
bare."
Another tree undecorated and sent out the door with only a
scrawny, little, sappling left. The
homemade ornaments taped to the wall around it to make it appear larger.
Tinselled and filled with light from the colorwheel now removed from the
original saved the poor, final cedar from extinguishing our celebration. Not
one guest complained. The event became like a game. The table for the feast
glowed with candles and reflections off the tinselled little gift.
A poster sized picture now overtakes that spot from the
place of the stapled angel to the top of a little table that's never moved
since.
This story is a result of a vivid dream I had last night. I
had to share it. 12/11/15
G. K. Fralin
