The Talking Tree

I love Christmas movies. Some people say they’re hokey, sappy and way too cheesy. Maybe, but they are still one of my favorite December (November, even??!!) activities. They nearly always have happy endings and that pleases me. Some are uplifting though most, even I will admit, tend toward the overly sentimental. But I don’t care. If there’s ever a time for that, Christmastime is it. Angels. Sparkling stars. A little snow. And everywhere a shiny Christmas tree.

In one movie I watched this year one of the main characters tells the other, “You know, Christmas trees tell the story of our lives.” And as I decorated the little somewhat scrawny one I have in Montana, I had to agree. Unless you only have one of those fancy-schmancy, fluffy, poofy color-themed ones, each ornament you hang brings you back to another time, another place and another very special person.

"It comes every year,” said writer Marjorie Holmes of Christmas, “and will go on forever. And along with Christmas belong the keepsakes and the customs. Those humble, everyday things a mother clings to, and ponders, like Mary in the secret spaces of her heart."  Let me clue you in on some of the “ponderings” of my Christmas heart, ornamentally speaking.

My oldest ornament was my mother’s, now a rather bent, glittery cardboard baby buggy. It signaled that I was coming to join the family, and I guess the fact that she kept the buggy and passed it on to me years later meant she was happy about it! Somewhat worse for wear, there’s also waving plastic Santa who has to be tucked way back in on a branch because he’s lost his ability to hang from one. Mom saved a green felt stocking, too, that the first grade me “sewed” together. That one is relegated to the back of the tree due to its now really-tattered state.

The two Christmases we spent in Germany, courtesy of Uncle Sam and the US Army, are commemorated by traditional German wooden baubles. The daughter who technically came into the world on US soil, but possesses a German birth certificate, gets those one day.

Three tiny, beautiful little girls in their Christmas finery grin at me and are placed front and center of my tree every year. Those same darlings – as a 4^th grader, a 1^st grader and a Kindergartener - each have their own photo spots on simple golden canning lids, surrounded by glued-on white paper doilies, reminding me of how kind the folks at East Troy Bible Church were to include us newcomers in their 1983 Christmas decorating.
Chicago Cubs fans, include the ones in my house, are fond of saying “there’s always next year” and that’s true for the Cubs ornament – a yearly reminder that while those particular ball players might not (yet!) be winners, the ever-patient, ever-hopeful fans in my house who love them, are.

Bob’s late sister crafted some sparkly crystal wreaths that catch the light and remind us of loved ones who left us way too soon. Remembrances from Cathy, a dear friend who made it her tradition to craft and give an annual family ornament often cause a shiny tear or two to fall as I see her handwriting on the back of each very special piece.

Then there are the trips. In 1999 Bob & I traveled to Israel, an excursion of a lifetime for us, and a couple Bethlehem nativities are there to make us think of when we walked the streets that Jesus did. The dolphin and starfish aren’t swimming in Florida, but their presence makes us wish we were, guided by one of my passions – lighthouses. And then, of course there’s an entire other little tree full of tropical treats commemorating our two Hawaiian Christmases - and the precious boy who first made us grandparents there!

We can’t forget the bison from YNP, the Montana bears, the western boot – all reminders of God’s grandblessings (as a friend so aptly puts it!) to us and the privilege of spending so much time watching them grow from teeny-to-tall in breathtaking Big Sky Country.

A couple Christmas pretties that now spend the holiday on my tree used to reside with my parents. They aren’t the most gorgeous or the most valuable, at least in the monetary sense, but I feel pretty sentimental about them. They are a tangible remnant of and connection with my past, my childhood, and my now departed and most beloved mom and dad.

McDonald’s might not be represented on your Christmas tree, but it is on ours. Our little logo’d lunch bag helps us to be grateful to the Lord and to Bob for all his labor during his 30 year career with the corporation, the dedication to which supported our family, sent three girls to school and allowed us to show the country and many of its treasures to them.

Mr. Charles Schulz, he of “Peanuts” fame, once lightly quipped: "Christmas is a box of tree ornaments that have become part of the family." Yup, and my family, my life is on that tree. How about yours?