My childhood Christmas tree was not glamorous. It would not have been showcased among the pages of any lifestyle magazine or in the program line-up for HGTV. Its fluffed, artificial branches were not adorned with fancy, color-coordinated décor but with a random assortment of ordinary ornaments that I like to call… cozy. Each one spoke of a vacation we took, an activity my brothers and I enjoyed or a Christmastime classroom craft. There was a replica of the U.S. Capitol building from my sixth grade trip to Washington D.C., a porcelain redheaded cheerleader representing my junior high school years, and a Santa Claus made of colored felt and googly eyes when I was in elementary school.
I loved that tree. Many mornings before school started I would plug in its lights and sit in the glow, sipping a mug of hot tea – sweet tea made sweeter with evaporated milk. Every year we added new ornaments: a cross-stitched snowman wearing braces when I was in the 7th grade and had my own tinsel grin, the Troy State University logo when my big brother started college, and a corner piece of letterhead from ABC 33/40 News, which mom placed in a plastic red frame the year I was hired to work there as an associate producer.
Our tree found its 15 minutes of fame on ABC 33/40 in 1999 during the television station’s Christmas special. A reporter was looking for a homegrown holiday story to tell and the decorations our tree held fit the theme she wanted. I have a copy of that story, stored somewhere in my house on an aging VHS tape. It hasn’t played in years except in my mind. The very last line of the story I run on repeat:
“As our family grows, so does our tree,” my daddy said.
The tree I decorate now with my husband and our daughters is a lot like the one I adored growing up. It is filled with ornaments from our travels, tributes to our girls, and a few of the trinkets that hung on my childhood tree, including that Santa Claus I crafted from felt in the fourth grade.
There is one ornament on our tree that is not a story of life but of death. My daddy’s death. He passed away on Thanksgiving Day in 2007. A couple of weeks later, my church held a service of grief and remembrance to honor loved ones we had lost and comfort the families who miss them. As we left the sanctuary that day, our ministers gifted a handmade white cross to remind us of God’s love, presence and peace. I hang that cross on our Christmas tree every year, the second ornament of the season.
The first ornament we hang is a happier reflection. It is the “first gift of Christmas” as depicted in the popular children’s book and movie, The Polar Express. Jeff and I watched it in theaters when it released in 2004. Before our date, I passed a Hallmark store at Madison Square Mall in Huntsville, Alabama and saw atop a display table the red and white striped box holding the shiny, silver bell. On a whim, I purchased the bell. I paid $12.95 +tax.
The price turned out to be a steal. The movie was such a hit that the bell sold out in stores. As parents scrambled to find a bell for their kids, the cost soared on eBay as high as $150. Jeff told me to sell it – and he wasn’t kidding! But I didn’t sell it and every year I feign insult as we recount the story while decorating our tree. Before I even pulled the bell from its striped box this year, Abby Kate started to recite the memory and we teased Jeff (again!) for trying to trade our beautiful bell for a quick buck.
Over the years our family has added dozens of ornaments alongside the bell and the cross: a snowman family of four with each of our names hand-painted, a colorful ball illustrated with camels that Jeff purchased in Qatar the year he was deployed, even a bright yellow ceramic disc bearing the image of a beaver which I picked up during our opening day trip to the Buc-ee’s gas station near our home.
“As our family grows, so does our tree,” my daddy said.
And so do our stories. We unpack them every year along with our ornaments. I hope my life, for my daughters’ sake, is a reflection of our Christmas tree, filled with tender stories about people I love and quirky moments that bring warmth and laughter. Stories of “Remember the time we…?” worthy to share through generations.
Christmas illuminates the best parts of us: an altruistic spirit of giving, a renewed and confident faith, a heartfelt longing for family. As you celebrate the last moments of Christmas 2022, even as you pack away decorations, I hope you will invite moments of reflection. Look to the cross. Listen for the bells. Linger at the Nativity in January and in June. The wonder of our Savior should not be confined to one day in December. He is present with us every day.
“For unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given: and the government shall be upon his shoulder: and his name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, The mighty God, The everlasting Father, The Prince of Peace”
(Isaiah 9:6).
What stories do your Christmas traditions tell?
What does the rhythm of your life say about you?
How can you preserve special memories not just for the holiday but every day?
