This is a Christmas tree at my Grandma J's home. In the eyes of a child, this was the most beautiful addition to a living room that I could have imagined. Through the eyes of an adult, I can see where many would consider this a Charlie Brown Christmas tree. That is what photographs will do. It brings tears to my eyes to see how calloused my opinion about the beauty of Christmas is and should be. I don't know when it happened. However, now I'm starting to revert. I wish that children now could be more appreciative of less. Less is more, right?
The tree was not up for long. I wouldn't be surprised if there is no water at the bottom. Trees weren't up long. Not many bulbs. This tree didn't have any children-made ornaments like most of our trees. The strands of tinsel didn't even make it around the tree--but ours at home were made of popcorn and cranberries. Grandma's strands were special.
I can tell which presents were from my Aunt Sis, grandma's sister. She made the most beautiful packages. Whenever I'd sneak a peek at the tree after Aunt Sis arrived, I'd be super thrilled. I had the most beautiful packages. However, I'd be disappointed. I don't know how long it took me to realize that my name and my grandma's name were the same. Aunt Sis gave Grandma those beautiful packages. Oh, she made all of ours special too, but not like Grandma's.
I can tell the following picture is at Christmas time. My mother would take pine boughs and decorate the dining room window sill. Also, our uncle from California always sent fruit. We didn't seem to have oranges at any other time. Those oranges were huge--and sweet!
This picture was taken when I was eight years old. It was our year to have Christmas. One year we'd go to Grandma F's, the next to Grandma J's and the next we'd stay home and WAIT for everyone to arrive. I can't begin to tell you how full of anticipation I was. We children had already been allowed to open our stockings. Mom would hope that would tide us over a bit. I hated having to wait. Everyone would arrive at different times, and the minutes seemed like hours.
I'm sure I was up to something. My sister was peeking around the corner, probably hoping I would get into trouble. Moms are more understanding at Christmas time. I, unfortunately, missed out on that part of life. Maybe that is why I have commercial Christmas feelings and yearn for the emotional feelings.
It is Christmas Eve. I am going to a friend's house that will be alive with little children's laughter. I will not see my childhood tree. In its place I will see a perfectly shaped Douglas fir with decorations that are perfectly placed and perfectly color coordinated. I hope I have a good time. I will pity the kids--not outloud, because I know they will never have the special memories I had. And they were very special and no photograph can take those memories away.
Once again, and I'm happy to say it--
MERRY CHRISTMAS TO YOU!!!
Priceless!
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