Blog 1832 – 09.29.2020
The Christmas Tree That Cried
The Christmas Tree That Cried
I found this little treasure about a year ago while working in Indiana. It was written by a local Indiana author and though it was not then, nor is it now yet, Christmas season, I offer it to any and all who enjoy a good Christmas tale anytime. Elvis Presley in song offered the Christmas question, “Why Can’t Everyday Be Like Christmas?” It can, especially when we realize that we, each of us, have the best gift to give, ourselves. The Christmas Tree That Cried is a tender story of a little Christmas tree that learned that lesson well.
My dear departed mother loved Christmas and passed that love on to her sons. To my just as dear and longer departed dad, Christmas was just another day, one in which his daily routine was very little changed. For mama, my brother, and I the anticipation was way more than half the fun of Christmas. I, for one, started counting the days till the next Christmas before the long awaited day itself was even over.
When I first learned of Christmas, my family hardly ever attended church services, a practice I have not practiced in some years and have no plans to take up again. Oh, my brother and I had ridden a church bus a few times to a big Baptist church across town. But, it was not until my mother’s teenaged brother Richard drowned, when I was ten, that my mom started taking my brother and me to Sunday School and then later to church morning services and Wednesday night prayer meetings too. I went to church every time the doors were opened for many years. It was an addiction for me not easily or quickly overcome and one I would not wish on anyone.
Christmas as a child, for me, was, as I think it is for many people around the world, not a religious holiday at all, but a fun one filled with lots of bright lights, the best gifts, and good things to eat. It was for most of my young life the best and most special day of the year and I still look forward to it’s return each year.
Sadly, too many people allow deaths and tragedies that occur during the holidays over the years to mar the celebration for them and instead of enjoying the day turn it into an anniversary of doom and despair, not grateful for surviving family, friends, and gifts, but mourning while bemoaning the number years since a particular loss or tragedy. Believe me, no one who ever did or does love you wants you to spoil your Christmas Day or any day in that way and we all would join you in a glass of eggnog or a piece of fruit cake to prove it, though neither of these have ever been one of our favorite Christmas treats, but you are.
Merry Christmas, today and everyday, my friends. May it be said of each of us as it was said of Ole Ebenezer Scrooge after being visited by a dear departed friend and three other ghosts one Christmas Eve, that he really knew how to keep Christmas everyday in his heart.
Your friend and fellow traveler,