Late last week we put our Christmas Tree up. In a way, I think our tree tells the story of us. It’s not a serene or regal thing with white lights and perfectly placed ornaments. It’s not about to make the cover of some domestic living magazine.
It has multi-colored lights and some beautiful ornaments along with some quirky ornaments that were purchased simply because they cracked us up. Then there are the monstrosities, the ones that are crudely crafted and over-glued by the hands of a kindergartner, and more recently, a first-grader. Those are the precious ones. Those are the ones that will slap us across our hearts that first Christmas after she flies the nest.
We’ve always made it a point to buy one or two new ornaments every year, we’ve also received quite a few as gifts. Overall, it’s a pretty eclectic mix.
And along with all of these, you will see a handful that do not match the general look of our tree, they are cheap, shiny garish ornaments made of brittle plastic. They are as ugly as they are meaningful to us.
The year was 2005, early December. Our first Christmas as a married couple was in a few weeks and we were practically broke, Christmas shopping was thankfully finished. We put ourselves on an “only the essentials” budget for the next two agonizingly long weeks. The mood in our household could have been better, but it wasn’t bad.
One evening we were on one of those “essentials” errands. As we were browsing, I mentioned what a shame it was that we didn’t have a tree. Annie looked pained. She thought the subject was closed, we simply were not going to have a tree that year. Yes, it sucked, but it was what it was.
I couldn’t let it go. Annie, who was just as unhappy with the situation as I was, just wanted me to stop talking about it. The more I talked about it, the more miserable she was getting about it. One of our wedding gifts was a handmade Christmas Tree Skirt. It is one of Annie’s favorite wedding gifts. She couldn’t stand knowing that it was going to go unused that year.
“Well, let’s just browse the trees, you know, get an idea of how much we’ll be spending when we’re actually in the market for one next year.”
“Fine.” she replied. Within minutes her expression had softened. She liked this one, that one was pretty. “Oooh! I’d love to have a taller one like that when we someday get our dream house!” We rounded a corner and I stopped, Annie kept walking.
“Annie!”
“What?”
“Look at this one.” She stared, I could see her sizing it up, I could see numbers running through her head (She’s better with money than I am). It was just over six feet tall, barely two feet wide at the base. It was a tiny tree, perfect for our tiny apartment.
Finally she spoke, “That one is within our budget.”
“Are you kidding me? Really?”
“Not kidding. We could get this one. However, we shouldn’t.”
“Oh come on. It’s our first Christmas!”
She bit her lip, “What are we going to put on it?”
“Uhm…ornaments?”
“I have maybe a handful that have been handed down to me.”
“Yeah, I have a couple in a box somewhere.”
“It’s going to be a pretty barren tree.”
“But it will have a lovely skirt!” I replied. She smiled sadly. “Look at it this way, we have a great starting point! Every year we can get a couple more ornaments, you know, build it up.”
“Still…I don’t know. It will be a pretty sad looking sight.”
“Then…should we just pass on the tree?”
She bit her lip again, “No, let’s get the tree.” Her jaw squared up, “Screw it. Let’s buy an ornament or two as well. We gotta do something to make it a little less Charlie Brown-like. I mean…you know, it deserves to look a little nicer for Christmas! It is our tree after all.”
It was settled, we were going to have a Tree for our first Christmas. I stepped back and let her choose the two ornaments, anything to keep her mood improving. Then we rounded another corner, and again I stopped and Annie kept walking.
“Annie?”
“What?”
“Check this out.” She turned around and saw me pointing at a bucket, literally, a plastic bucket containing one-hundred ornaments for only ten dollars.
She grimaced, “Good God, they are so…shiny. Not cherubic choirs parting-clouds shiny, more like Christmas just threw up last night’s Las Vegas bender shiny. They look kind of ugly to me. Are you serious?”
“Babe, it’s filler, the tree will be evenly covered. Every year as we get more ornaments, we can get rid of a few of these things.”
She brightened up. “You’re right! You are right. Great find!”
It only took about half the bucket to fully decorate that tiny tree. But that didn’t matter, we exchanged gifts under our very own, (very, very shiny) Christmas Tree. Sure, the ornaments might have been ugly, but that year we found them beautiful.
After a few Christmases, the tree became pretty worn out, it had to be retired and replaced. As I predicted, our collection of ornaments had grown, is growing, in fact it’s grown to the point where those cheap plastic ornaments have been officially deemed unnecessary, yet there they are. Maybe ten remain out of the original one-hundred. They have and always will have an honored place on our tree. Every time I look at them, I see a couple, younger than we are, thinner than we are. Still in their first year, still on their honeymoon. Their wallet is empty but their hearts are full. They are certainly too broke to be buying something as irresponsible and so gratuitous as a Christmas tree. Yet, they still did it, they still pulled it off. Logic was defeated by joy. Those ornaments remind us of where we came from, they remind me that hopeful doesn’t have to be futile, and that optimism really can matter. They help me keep sight of my joy.