December 2013

NOTE: Our children's pastor asked if I would write a Christmas story for him to use, and so I did. The following is loosely based on my father’s experience as a child, in that his family really did not celebrate Christmas. He never had a Christmas tree in his boyhood home.

Robby’s Christmas Tree

Robby’s wish was simple: he wanted a Christmas tree. In his very own house. In his very own living room. With ornaments that sparkled and candles that lit up the faces of his brothers and sisters. Probably not with presents beneath it, though. That would be just too much to ask. He knew that. Just the tree. That would do.

But it really wasn’t all that simple. Not at all. Robby’s Dad wasn’t much on Christmas. He said they didn’t need it.  In fact, his family never celebrated Christmas. Never had, as far as Robby knew. No decorations. No cookies. No presents. And certainly no tree. Not ever.

Robby wasn’t sure why that was, exactly. Even though he was only nine, Robby knew that times were hard. The year was 1932 and his teacher said what was happening was called a depression. Lots of people didn’t have jobs and if you didn’t have a job that meant you sure didn’t have any money for stuff like Christmas. Some people didn’t even have enough food, so Christmas was out of the question.

But, really, since his family lived on a farm and there were lots of evergreens all over their land, why couldn’t they cut one down for a Christmas tree? Just a little short one? They had had popcorn, didn’t they? They grew some ever summer and it wouldn’t cost that much to use that, would it? Mother had a needle and some thread and he knew people used those things to make popcorn strings and hang them on their trees. They’d done it at school, after all. And maybe they didn’t have any shiny store-bought ornaments like he’d seen in the Sears & Roebuck Wish Book, but they had some paper and glue, didn’t they? They would make some ornaments! If the tree didn’t cost anything and the decorations didn’t, either, how could Dad say no?

Feeling confident that his father couldn’t possibly object to his plan, Robby convinced his older brother, Jim, to help him do the deed. The snow was pretty deep but they were big, strong farm boys and they borrowed Dad’s ax and traipsed on outside. All around them were trees of all sizes, each begging to be chosen. Robby found the best one of the lot and he and Jim took turns chopping. Dragging it back across the field, Robby was beside himself with excitement and anticipation. Wouldn’t his sisters be thrilled? Wouldn’t mother just be the proudest mom?

Dad spotted them before they got to the back door and he kind of exploded. He refused to allow them to take the little tree inside. Punished them for taking the ax without asking. And sent them to bed early with no supper. “Why?” sobbed Robby to Jim. “Why is Dad so mean? Why is our family the only one around with no Christmas tree? Sometimes it seems like Dad doesn’t even like us, his own kids. Doesn’t seem right.”

Jim didn’t know the answer to that for sure. Their Dad had always been quiet. He didn’t say much, even to his wife or his kids. And he always seemed to be a little bit mad at everybody. “Dad’s kinda worried all the time, Robby. I heard him tellin’ Ma that we might lose the farm. It’s happening to some of our neighbors. Maybe you just better stop bothering about a Christmas tree. We’re not ever getting one and you know it.”

With his empty stomach rumbling away, Robby had a hard time getting to sleep. He remembered a small paper his buddy, George, had given him at school. The paper had some story on it about a tree, didn’t it? Even if Dad wouldn’t let him have a tree, at least he could read about one. It was still light enough, so he fished it out from under his bed. There was a verse from the Bible on the paper. It said, “He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, so that we might die to sins and live for righteousness; by his wounds you have been healed” (1 Peter 2:24). “That couldn’t be a Christmas tree,” Robby thought. ”But it sounds important. I’ll ask George about it when I see him at school tomorrow.”

Robby did ask George. And George told him about Jesus. How Jesus came to earth as a baby, God’s perfect Son, on that first Christmas. How He grew up, obeyed His earthy dad, and told lots of people how to get to heaven one day. And how Jesus died on a tree, taking the sins of every person in the world on His Own Self.

While he was a boy, Robby never did get to have a Christmas tree. He had to be content to enjoy the ones at school. But when he was grown he made sure his own children had the very best tree he could find - every single Christmas. There were sparkly ornaments and some made by his little ones, icicles and strings of popcorn. And, oh yes, even a few presents for his kids under those trees. But Robby always remembered that very most special tree he’d learned about on the Christmas of his 9^th year. And, in his heart, he knew that one was the best Christmas tree there ever could be.