Oh, Christmas Tree

It is 10:45 p.m. I just went to check on the kids--who got into bed MAYBE 25 minutes ago, and Thad was still awake. I foresee bed at 7:30 tomorrow night.

We have had a great big 'ole weekend. Yesterday when school was over we all drove out to the High Star Christmas Tree Farm to pick us out a tree. . .a Yankee tree mind you. We got the native grown pine trees a couple of years, but the year I was bleeding from pokes and had to finish decorating the tree while sporting Tony's leather work gloves, well that was it for me. Now we splurge and buy the Douglas fir that was grown north of the Mason Dixon. We call it our "Martha Stewart tree." It has all those lovely, tiny needle laden branches sticking out--just perfect for showcasing your favorite Christmas baubles. And it feels like velvet when you rub it.

Of course we have some ornaments Martha would never entertain--an angel ornament made from one white bead, a paper clip, and a silver pipe cleaner (and have you noticed they are not called pipe cleaners anymore but like chenille rods or something). We have a precious picture of Thad glued in the middle of two candy canes that are put together to make a heart. . .not sure how long that one will last. We have Curious George and Raggedy Ann and Andy--lots with glue and tissue paper and school pictures.

The first year we were married, Tony did not want a tree. He was still hung up on the "perfect" tree--and neither our apartment nor our budget could afford such. I made him drive me to the woods where I cut the top out of a pine--and he laughed at me for the next three weeks, but I had a tree. Then I got a little artificial one the next year. Even I couldn't do the top of a pine again. The first year we were in this house, it was "perfect" tree time. We went to a tree farm where Tony took 2 hours (of constant walking) to find just the right one. Then we went to Garden Ridge Pottery the next day to find a decor we liked and bought ornaments just like those--gold and cream. Lovely. Perfect. I was careful to tell Tony that one day our tree would not be so photogenic--he was adamant that we would never sully our tree with mismatching ornaments. Gold and cream it was. Gold and cream it would be. World without end, amen.

Then along came the girl. I decided to get her an ornament each year for Christmas. She gets either an angel or a heart. . .and it's very easy to keep up with the gold and cream color scheme since angels and hearts lend themselves to those particular colors. All was right with the tree.

And along came the boy. He gets a Santa or a train each year--and he currently has more Santas than trains. If I'm buyin' a Santa, it's not gonna be one wearing gold or cream. That is unnatural--and I've seen some lovely gold and/or cream Santas--but it's unnatural for a little boy. So we had a few touches of red here and there.

Thad is now five. Some years he's gotten two ornaments because I just couldn't decide. As we finished decorating tonight and stepped back to look at our masterpiece (a little ornament heavy around the bottom), I said to Tony, "Well, our gold and cream tree. . ." And before I could finish my thought he said, "Is now red."

And it is. It's red and gold and cream and silver and green and lovely all over. It sings of children in the house--of magic and wishes and having to fuss some to make sure nothing gets broken.

After the kids went to bed, I tweaked the tree--made sure there was only one ornament per little branch--but tried not to move them so much that the kids would notice. I picked up the heavy ones that had fallen off from Thad hanging them too closely to the ends. The tree will be tweaked off and on by all of us until Christmas day. I have not doubt of that, but one thing I do know. Someday the children will leave and take their ornaments with them--the red Santa and tissue paper and school picture ones. The candy cane hearts and favorite toy ones. The twisted lollipops and angels and trains. That's my intention--to let them have a tree full of ornaments for their home the first year they are out of our nest and feathering one of their own. But as those ornaments leave my home, they will take pieces of my heart along with them. The children for whom I bought them will be grown and going, going, gone.

So tomorrow I will try not to fuss so much. I will try to be patient when I hear, "Momma? . . ." for the millionth time in five minutes. I will hold them close and smell their hair and try to remember that this time is short. This time is a gift. This time is perfect--perfectly full of love and kisses and private chats and I-love-yous and surprises and children dancing to Christmas music. As I look at the tree I will try to remember--so that I never forget--how our God who sent his own child to redeem us gave me these two to love and teach and parent and guide for awhile so I might just begin to understand how much He loves me.

I am sitting in the lights of the tree. Tony is watching a movie and eating popcorn. He just looked over here and said, "THAT is a beautiful tree." High praise.

I hope you have a lovely tree all your own wrapped in little decorations that hold fond memories--decorated with love--in a house full of joy.