How could a tree, whether fake or real, be a vision of love? A Christmas tree, to me, is not just some tradition, some ritual nor is it detached from me, meant only for visual beauty and enjoyment. It is in the memories held there and the meaning put into it.
My tree is old, passed down from my sister, to mom, and then to me... it sits crooked and it's branches are bent all funny. The tree is not thick and full like the new trees, it has many holes and gaps. It even has some of the icicle tinsle on it, left from the years growing up where it was a 'must' and 'put on one at a time, don't clump it'.
The funnest part about putting up my Christmas tree is reminiscing over what the tree represents to me, the many memories and the many ornaments. You could say, I almost 'collect' ornaments, some are as new as this year and some nearly as old as I am or perhaps even older, as they were collected by mom. Each year I like to look at the special ornaments; ornaments that friends and family have made and given; ornaments from my 5th grade teacher, Mrs. Erickson; a party hat from discipleship class; ornaments from Bluebirds or made at Grandma's house, ornaments meant to represent things, such as the year I played basketball or the teddy bear my sissy got for me when I was sick.
The best ornaments of all, are those made to point our way to the true Light of Christmas, Jesus; a star which guided the wisemen to the Christ child... the nativity or perhaps the cross, no matter how ornate, to remind us of Jesus love for us.
A Christmas tree is just a tree, with lights and pretty ornaments. It may be the center focus of a room, but it truly isn't the center of Christmas. For me, it is a vision of love.
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Happy 84th Grandma!
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