The Tree

This morning, I informed my children that we will be getting our Christmas tree this weekend and it was thrilling to see their eyes light up and listen to the excitement in their voices as they all started talking at once.    It brought back memories of when I was younger and I remembered going on the “hunt” with my Dad.

The search for the perfect tree was always on our own property and as we had a fair amount of acreage, there was always a good chance of finding one fairly quickly.   The trick was finding the right one.    I remember stomping through the snow with my Dad.   I would look here and there and run on ahead.   This one?   No, too short.   Too tall.   Too flat on one side.   Too bare.   And finally, the right one.   It was always the most beautiful tree in the forest and I would picture in my mind how lovely it would be with the decorations on it and the presents underneath it.

Now that I have children of my own, the tradition has changed somewhat.   We do not look for a tree on our own property.   We drive down the road to the tree farm.    When we arrive, we are given a sled and a small saw.   The sled is for the tree but inevitably, one or two of the kids  jump onto the sled so that Dad can drag them out into the fields full of trees.   But then, its very familiar.   The picking of the tree…… and its almost like my Dad is there and I am a child again.  This one?   No, too short.   Too tall.   Too flat on one side.   Too bare.   And finally, the right one.  The kids each get a turn with the saw before Dad takes over and finishes the job.   With the tree on the sled, the kids have no choice but to walk and they run off ahead chattering happily of the most beautiful tree  and how lovely it will be with the decorations on it and the presents underneath it.