The branches can almost fool me as I gaze at them from across the room. Yet another Christmas with a fake Christmas tree and honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way. As a child I’d anticipate opening the attic door and smelling the mix of must, dust, and a myriad of other unidentifiable scents that mingled in the space over our porch. The tree was older, larger, and well loved. We’d carry it down the stairs bit by bit and eventually deck it out with all the normal trimmings.
I don’t remember much about the stringing of the lights, but the ornaments are burned into my memory. Ours was a tree that would never be featured in any decorating catalog. Replete with handmade school crafts and mementos from my parents’ travels abroad the tree told a story in which every ornament was a chapter.
Of course there were the “baby’s first Christmas” ornaments (years 1985 and 1987) which always caused a small disagreement as I had two ornaments and my brother only had one. I always told him it was because I was the firstborn. And a girl. Don’t worry, he got me back when he became a Marine and he gets an 11×14 picture of himself on my dad’s mantel whilst my family and I get a mere 4×6. (no resentment here…no, really, it’s all in jest, but I digress). The few antique ornaments hang high above where little hands can reach them. They refract the lights creating beams of red, yellow, and blue. My obsessive self makes sure they hang in the order of the Christmas story–the shepherds first, the nativity second, and the wise men third. We can’t have things out of order now, can we?
A golden Rudolph hangs, his bright red nose sparkling. He was a gift from my sitter when I was younger reminding me of days spent playing and the many excuses I used to think up to try to negotiate naptime. There are macaroni picture frames and handprints traced.
I stood in the aisle this Christmas at Wal-Mart and survey the many many different ornament sets…brights, chocolates, all white–part of me wants the pretty tree, the picturesque one with the matching ornaments, but where’s the story in that? Instead I’m going to have my tree with its handmade clashing colors and mismatched ornaments that each tell a chapter, a story.
What story does your tree tell?
Kim Hall says
December 21, 2012 at 8:14 amI have always loved this, but have never put a name to it. Thanks for doing that! Although “Martha Stewart” or “Home Beautiful” trees are stunning, I much prefer family style trees that are full to the brim of memories.
Our tree tells the story of moments in every year, especially for our two girls: A Wheel of Fortune, a Ryder truck, a burned out Hot Wheels car, just to name a few. This is the first year those ornaments don’t grace our tree, as our girls are old enough so they each have their own trees, and have hung their beloved Story Ornaments on them. I told the story here, if I may leave the link: http://www.toodarnhappy.com/2011/11/21/small-tradition-big-joy-your-unique-story-ornaments/
Natasha Metzler says
December 21, 2012 at 9:47 amOh, the stories of the Christmas tree. 🙂 Every ornament on my tree has a story. From the little dark-skinned baby, that tells about the first time I visited Haiti (little did I know that I would return multiple times and end up living there!) to the Case tractor tree topper that was jokingly set there that first year I was married… and never left. I love putting up the Christmas ornaments and reminiscing…
I do have to add, the jokes between you and your brother crack me up. I was the only girl and happened to the be the first baby of the new year. All the local business gave my parents gifts. I was the only child with a Christmas ornament, a little plate thing that had all my birth information on it, a framed picture of the front page of the newspaper… my brother whined and whined. Now I tell them they’ve officially gotten back at me because they have all provided my parents with grandchildren. And grandkids win over only daughters any day.
Amy Tilson says
December 21, 2012 at 9:54 amThis year we have two trees. The second is where we are spending Christmas. I took my little guy out in the truck. He picked out the tree. I took him to KMart the next day and he picked out all the decorations since we didn’t have any here. He picked out colored lights and all silver ornaments and garland. I was actually impressed. He has quite sophisticated tastes for an almost 4yo, but I wouldn’t expect anything less from such a visual child. Our tree’s story is the first grand expression of our little guys sense of style. For that, it’s perfect!
Lorretta Stembridge says
December 21, 2012 at 11:58 pmThis post is particularly fascinating to me because for the last 5 or 6 years my daughter has been after me to decorate our tree according to one of those “boxed” color schemes and according to theme….something more “modern”. I say very little because she’s still so young and fresh and does not yet understand that our tree DOES have a theme: Love, Family, Memory, History. As you said, every ornament represents a chapter and someday, she’ll see her script intertwined with mine and see the value. I’ve compromised a bit and I do have a “unifying” color scheme-ish thing going on….but I won’t budge. Merry Christmas Kristina!
Barbie says
December 22, 2012 at 12:17 pmWhat a beautiful Christmas tree story. Our tree was a gift this year, as we could not afford one. Here is a link to my story if you care to read: http://myfreshlybrewedlife.com/2012/12/o-christmas-tree-life-in-the-midst-of-winter.html
Karen says
December 29, 2012 at 2:05 pmI love having my ornaments that tell our life story. So many memories are in the ornaments we put on the tree. A few years ago we helped put my in laws tree up and everything had to be just perfect. There was a color scheme and everything had to be in a specific spot. The tree looked beatiful but I knew this was not my style. I love having all our cutsie ornaments and what they represent. That is just the way I like it.