In Search of...The Perfect Christmas Tree

For the past 23 years or so, we've gone to Christmas Tree farms to select our tree. Prior to this, the only option I was aware of was visiting a lot to pick a pre-cut tree. Both methods have always taken much time and lots of thoughtful consideration. This is a serious matter, after all, and one can't go picking the first tree that meets the eye. This very special tree is going to be a semi-permanent fixture in the house for an extended period of time. In my case, it almost becomes a beloved, if temporary, member of the family. We usually make the tree-selection excursion a family event and over the years, my children have been the ones to find the perfect tree; my son, especially, has shown a unique talent for zeroing in on the best tree year after year.

Yes, I love my Christmas tree and the entire process from search and selection to the finishing touch of adornment is a project very dear to my heart. As most people do, I have much sentimentality stored within the ornaments I place on my tree year after year. Part of the joy of decorating the tree is unwrapping each ornament and briefly reliving the memory of where or who it came from and the significance attached to it. It usually takes me anywhere from two to three days to complete my Christmas tree. The perfect place must be found for each ornament and, ideally, all should hang freely for the optimum, overall effect.

      

                   

 

I'm not exactly sure when it was that we began putting our tree up in the early days of December. This was not the custom to which I'd been exposed in all my growing-up years. Some of it probably has to do with the discovery that freshly cut trees last an amazingly long time if properly cared for. Most of it has to do with the high price tag these choose and cut trees carry and wanting to get my money's worth. Add to this the mere fact that I simply adore having a beautifully decorated tree in my living roon and when the day comes that I must take it down, it is always a sad one.

A long time ago, we lived in half of a duplex that was so small that there was no room in the living room for a tree. There was a huge, multi-paned window facing the street in our bedroon, however, so we decided to put our tree up in there. There was no one around to protest such a radical change in location; our only child at the time, our daughter, was only 3 and a half and the entire Christmas celebration was all very new to her still new perception of the world and wonders therein. The tree in our bedroom doubled as a most unusual, equisite nightlight/lovelight. I was already a couple of years shy of my 30th birthday and soon discovered that the soft glow of Christmas lights was quite flattering to a face and body that were just beginning to show their age.

In fact, I loved having that tree in my bedroom so much that I didn't "un-deck" it and take it down until we were well into March of the following year. Crazy? Yes, but I couldn't bear to part with it. A major fire hazzard? Most definitely yes, but I was very aware of this fact and extremely careful about how long I'd turn the lights on and made certain someone was always in the room. It remained amazingly fresh and fragrant for the longest time.

When I finally did take the tree down, the top of it very much resembled the antlers of "Thidwick, The Big- Hearted Moose" at the end of the story--if anyone is familiar with this little Dr. Seuss gem of a story. There were all sorts of little creatures who had set up housekeeping among the top branches over the weeks the tree stood in our room. Gracious! For all I know, several generations were conceived, born, lived and died in the uppermost branches during those weeks. All I can tell you is that they didn't keep us up at night and I never kept a tree up this long ever again, much to my husband's silently suffering, utter relief I'm sure.