Bringing the Christmas Tree Home

Dad tied the tree down across the roof of our car for the drive home. Fresh trees from the lots, or from tree farms out in the country were transported back to our living room with loving care. We sang Christmas carols in the car as Mom fidgeted with the heat button up front. Static from the radio knob eventually tuned into Christmas music, though we often lost reception in the higher passes. Driving in the deeper snow required the car to be bundled up for the winter just like we were. I never understood the need for chains on our wheels but Dad insisted on them and that was all there was to it. I loved the grinding sound the chains made when going through the slush of snow; I always pretended I was riding in an Army tank.

The "unboxing" of the tree was exciting as it provided our house with a living scent of evergreen. It was wonderful getting close and putting my sniffer up the branches to get that wonderful outdoor up-in-the-mountains Christmas aroma. Once we got home there was an excited Christmas hustle and bustle in the house. Dad cut the tree trunk down to fit into the stand underneath, while Bonnie, our beloved Collie, barked excitedly because we were home. Mom had Dad get the Christmas boxes down from the attic, and once the tree was fitted into the stand, she was in full deco mode. I loved the fact that we had a full living outdoor tree standing in the living room. Like all of our neighbors, our tree had to be in the center of the living room window for all the world to see.

As for our Christmas tree, there was nothing like the scent of a fresh Noble, Douglas Fir, Blue Spruce, or a Scotch Pine once it was set up in the living room. Getting sticky sap on my fingers was just part of the joy of having a tree as joyous as the season standing tall in our living room. Mom had a thing for tinsel which she called "rain". She was a tremendous rainy day lover, and loved to be out walking in it if it wasn't falling too hard. (A love for rain, and rainy days is a trait I inherited from her). Mom loved each silvery sparkle of each glistening strand of the aluminum tinsel. I loved the lights, the decorations, and the general excitement of the season. When all was said and done, the lights on the tree were reflected on the wet glass of our front window. Outside the rain was falling; inside a four-color wheel rotated slowly throwing different shades of dramatic color on our tree. I sat spellbound waiting for the blue section to come around again...