TheBanyanTree: Trimming the Holiday Tree

[Gloria]

The tree looms in our small living room.  Seven feet tall, bushy, lit
with little white bulbs.  It's our second year with this artificial
tree.  It seems we've slowed down a little.  Gone are the days of
tramping through the tree farmer's field searching for the perfect
tree, cutting it down, dragging it through the snow (or mud if only
rain had fallen), getting it home and upright in its stand.  It's only
when tree trunk meets stand that one realizes they have once again
forgotten how important a straight trunk is.  Getting it into the
stand is Al's job around here and by his own admission, he never did
enjoy the job.  Each year as he snarled and fought with the biggest
tree I could find, he pitched a request for an artificial tree.  For
many reasons, I never allowed it to happen until last year.

In days past, our two kids and I would decorate the tree.  Christmas
music, hot chocolate, cookies, dark outside, and the annual reading of
'Twas the Night Before Christmas.  Later in their lives, the reading
turned to conversations about life and love for all that is.  More
than anything else, it's the tree ornaments that put me in the holiday
spirit.  Memories of days gone by rise to the surface as quickly as a
poke from one of the needles brings back memories of pain endured.
Ornaments from my childhood tree, including the colorful plastic
french horn that was the coveted find for my siblings and I each year,
remind me of my parents, my siblings, our old house and neighborhood,
and the child that still reigns within.  Ornaments received from
former workmates, including the annual needlepoint designs cut from
plastic grids, stitched, glued and presented in a colorful box.  The
bird feeder, the dove, the little red mailbox with its door open, and
many more, remind me of the small town spirit these lovely folks
taught me, the gal transplanted from the big city.  Ornaments from
friends remind me that I am loved for all that I am and all that I
become, uncondtionally.  From cross-stitched wildlife, an angel of
lace, to a small wooden cow a with Santa hat and wreath around his
neck, I am reminded that they truly know me and the things that I
adore.  The ornaments that my children have made through the years
provide me with wistful memories of the joy I discovered in mothering
and further remind me of how incredibly blessed I am to have them in
my life.  Their first ornaments were made at the ages of 2 and 3 with
other children at their pre-school/daycare.  They are gingerbread
people made from construction paper, cut and drawn upon.  One has a
happy smile, while the other has its smile upside down.  This was
intentional.  I was told by my son that everybody's had a happy face
and that he thought we needed to think about the unhappy people too.
Others include school pictures placed inside of a vast array of items,
painted plaster ornaments, suncatchers, and bulbs with a name painted
upon them.  I have purchased or made one ornament for each of them
since the year they were born, each doing their part to display a 3D
scrapbook of their lives.   Someday the ornaments will be passed onto
them with the intention and hope that these symbols will bring their
Spirit to the forefront during the holiday season, as they have done
for me.  I hope that they will be reminded of the things that matter
in life, far removed from any materialistic views or self-imposed
stressors of the holiday season.

Enjoy the season that is upon us!  Share your memories, your smiles,
hugs, prayers for peace, and most of all, your time and your love.
Happy Holidays!!!

Dreamer...always dreamin' of a kinder, gentler world for ALL