­­Trees of Memories

This is the first year in my 75 years that I have been without a Christmas tree. Marv and I are full-time RVers now. “There’s not enough room in a fifth wheel,” I thought. So I decided – no tree – not even a small one. Instead I sat in my recliner, looked at our fake fireplace with its beautiful electric flames and imagined the trees of my past standing stately and proud beside it.

 

The branches were paper in my very first tree

And the chief decorator? Well, that would be me.

I was seven or eight, and that tree was fantastic

It had to be paper, there was no real plastic.

Green paper strips tied up around branches

With big colored lights, we were taking no chances

Three feet high, branches straight out, a small little tree.

And I would decorate it, fast as could be.

Balls, bells and tinsel, “icicles” hung out galore

Popcorn strings and stuff that came from the store

My two aunts would come and look, kind and dutiful

And Aunt Ada would declare it “terrifying beautiful.”

 

Then came young motherhood, and the trees they were real

Scenting the house with a warm Christmas feel

I rocked my firstborn and looked at a big silver ball

It showed our reflections, baby and all

I gave my firstborn a sweet little kiss

And sang every verse of “What Child is This?”

 

Full circle soon came, and the kids did the tree.

Not just one child, now there were three

And when they were done, each could open a present

The big trees watched them grow, oh how fast time went.

 

Then they were grown with trees of their own

But now two big trees decorated our home

There was the graceful white tree in the old living room

But downstairs a child’s tree stood there in full bloom

 

It flowered with ornament after ornament from Wizard of Oz

There was Barbie and Ken as well as the Grinch and some dolls

The youngest granddaughter loved the witch from the West

She claimed every witch and ignored all the rest

The witches from set after set were hung high and far as she could

Clustered together in one special spot, hey they looked pretty good

And while cookies baked upstairs in the oven

The tree downstairs had its very own coven.

 

Upstairs was the last tree, the children’s outgrown

The white tree was my very own.

Ornaments of silver, lights everywhere, it stood by the fireplace

And I loved it there.

The yard was ablaze with blankets of light

And there in the window, was my tree of white.

Reindeer in the gazebo, lights on the small fur

A wreath on the door and lights in the windows for sure

From poinsettias to ribbons, fireplace stockings and gifts in addition

When the table was set, it was Better Homes and Gardens: Christmas Edition

 

We have many circles in life’s turning wheel

And now I’ve decided a tree’s a big deal

So I’ll go the storage place, and there I will find

A small plastic tree that for years has been mine

It was always in our bedroom and standing beside it

Was a bathrobe clad Santa close by to guide it

 

I’ll dig out the tree, and two stockings, too.

I’ll grab the Santa and a poinsettia or two

And I’ll have a tree, even though it is late

And at night I’ll see the lights and say

“Isn’t that great?”

 

And that’s what I did. Sometimes poems in your head lead to action. The little tree, decorated in white, sits on our table in front of a big window. The stockings are over the fireplace and Barney lays on the couch and watches the Santa.

 

Merry Christmas to all and to all - - bright Christmas lights.

 

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