Breaking Tradition

 When I was a child, we didn't have much. We didn't know it at the time, but, in retrospect, we were poor. I'm glad I didn't know it then.  Might have spoiled my childhood.  Anyway, every year, my older brothers were assigned the chore of going out into the woods, finding a suitable Christmas tree, cutting it down and bringing it home.  Our tree stand was missing a leg so we had to prop it up with a brick.  The lights were the huge C-9 type, so we only needed a string or two to light that baby up.  There were lots off areas that were void of branches, and some branches were too long and some too short. Any and all ornaments that we'd ever bought, made or had been given to us went on the tree, including a lit star that was just the ugliest thing you'd ever hope to see. To us, it was beautiful. Then we'd cover the tree with tinsel.  At first, we would put it on string by string but we'd get bored soon and start chucking handfuls of it, letting it fall where it may. 

My first Christmas with my second husband (and two new step-children in addition to my own) found us cutting down a wild tree, because we certainly could't afford to buy one. It was wonderful, just Jim and I holding hands as we looked for a suitable tree. I guess love must have blinded me, because I really don't remember much about that tree.  For the next twenty five years, I insisted on going to the local tree farm and finding the perfect tree. As grandchildren came along, we would take them with us and they would help me decorate it. We'd string popcorn, cranberries and gum drops to make fragrant garlands while sipping hot cocoa from my red snowmen mugs.  After they went home, I'd rearrange the ornaments so my tree would be perfect. I'd have theme trees; angels one year, all blue and silver one year, all white one year.  I even did a patriotic one after 9-11.

Now our children have their own traditions with their children. It's difficult to gather them to go get a tree now. This year we decided to break with tradition.

Jim went out into the woods out back on a snowy day and cut a tree for us.  When he brought it home, it instantly brought back memories of those long-ago trees of childhood.  Our tree stand is too large for it, so Jim rigged a large plant pot with potting soil and bricks to set it in and I set about decorating it.  I finally got around to buying a set of LED lights this year so on they went.  My perfect trees of the past 25 years normally had between 700 and 1000 mini-lights on them; my tree this year has 60.  I didn't put on most of my ornaments since they are heavy and the branches, what few there are, are wimpy and won't support them.  I put the angel on and then, what did my wandering eyes see, but a box of tinsel I had bought as a gag one year.  My entire family hates tinsel, and I threatened them with it in the past.  What the hell; I opened the box and put half of it on.  I turned to get my camera to take a picture of this pathetic tree that looked like the worst Christmas tree Charlie Brown had ever chosen, when I heard a crash.  Down she went.  Surprisingly, only two gold balls broke.  So much for Jim's bricks-in-the-plantpot idea.  I attached it to the corner with wire. 

I am amazed that I am fine with a Charlie Brown tree.  It was good to bring out those old memories of not knowing I was poor. It is the epitome of an ugly tree, but I love it. I think we have a new tradition!