“Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree.” You have no doubt been singing that carol lately. I am a bit distressed to learn that some of my friends have opted to forego the tree entirely this year. They say they are either overwhelmed or disenchanted by how secular and mercenary the season has become.
It is certainly a country mile from the ones from my early youth. When I was five, the only Santa I saw before the actual day was in my book entitled “A Visit from St. Nicholas.” My dad would sometimes drive us twenty miles from Westchester to New York City to view the animated Santa and his elves in Macy’s store window.
There was no television and we were never allowed to attend movies. But, each of us had a green, felt stocking hung by the fireplace with a tiny, celluloid Santa on top. Presents were few, but an orange and a jackknife were sufficient to elicit squeals of joy.
One year, my brother Jim and I wanted a sled more than anything else, but our dad was a poor preacher and there was not enough money for such luxuries. One Christmas, though, my dad asked us to go out on the porch to see if any snow had fallen overnight. We did as we were told and there, against the wall was a beautiful six-foot-long Flexible Flyer sled with real red metal runners.
We laughed and cried and didn’t care that it had already been used by some other family. Our dad told us many years later that he found it in a secondhand store and saved money from donating a pint of blood to the Grasslands Hospital to buy it for us.
We had a sparse, but real Christmas tree, decorated with mostly homemade ornaments involving construction paper looping chains, popcorn and cranberries on string and old, handed down electric lights with fat bulbs; but it was our tree and for us, it was the best in the world.
There were no outdoor lights as far as I can remember. The fabulous displays these days are a more recent addition.
Our stories of trudging through the woods and cutting fresh Christmas trees with our kids back in the day, are heartwarming and sometimes hilarious. In recent years, we have opted for the artificial variety. Kaye is the decorator does a magnificent job.
Our great grandchildren enjoy coming in to push the start buttons on our musical plush creatures that play Christmas songs. If you could see Kaye and I making them all sing in the stores, you would probably have us taken away and incarcerated.
We hope your Christmas is merry and that you take time to embrace the simple things including the real meaning of Christmas. Remember, the star of Bethlehem was far brighter than the twinkling bulbs on our tree.
Columnist Gordie Little may be reached at gordie@suncommunitynews.com.
