Taking Down the Christmas Tree

Taking Down the Christmas Tree

I know some women who mourn the month of January. Packing away their Christmas ornaments is nothing more than a bleak necessity in the midst of a bleary winter. I don’t mind putting mine away though.

Our Christmas tree isn't one of those classy trees that is graced with brocade ribbons and antique lace. Nor do we have an ultramodern tree, simmering with sliver and spun glass. We have a tree that is filled with more trinkets than culture and more memories than glitz. Taking down my Christmas tree is more like opening a family photo album or a treasured scrapbook.

Each year we give our sons a Christmas ornament. These aren’t Hallmark ornaments that tout “first tooth” or “just married.” The ornaments we pick out are a bit more subtle, but no less significant. When the boys were fairly young, I purchased large lockets and placed a photo of my husband and me inside. A picture of each boy was placed on outside. Those simple lockets became their favorite ornaments. When my boys reached their super-sprouting years, I bought three snowmen that “grew” as you gently tugged on their tasseled hats. There was one year when money was really tight. I hand stitched scripture verses on bits of cross-stitch cloth, backed each with holly covered fabric, stuffed them with cotton puffs and created tiny little pillows that hung merrily on the boughs.

Our tree is covered with other memorabilia as well. There are the paper stars my sister crafted, the Popsicle sticks covered with glitter that the kids made in third grade, my dad’s hand carved icicles & snowmen and my mom’s hand crocheted snowflakes. It sports homemade paper hearts from a Danish girlfriend, a miniature coffee cup from a neighbor (the year my first book – Grace by the Cup: A Break From the Daily Grind came out) and a carefully preserved cookie ornament from the Ladies Auxiliary of my first church. Of course my husband and I collected a few ornaments of our own over the years. Early in our marriage we started a tradition. No matter what difficulties that year brought we would purchase one gold ornament for our tree. 2006 will bring number thirty!

Packing up the ornaments is pleasure for me. As I gently wrap each delicate treasure, I remember my boys when they were sweet pink-cheeked infants, rambunctious smudge-faced youngsters and strapping long-legged teenagers. Then I turn and watch my young men haul the worn old boxes to the attic. Their burly beards can’t hide hearty laughter and their muscular frames never fail to make me pause. God has truly blessed my family.

Each ornament I pack is not the gloomy disposal of another Christmas. They are reminders of God’s love. The places that I’ve visited, people I’ve shared time with, family I love – each is encapsulated in a little ornament. Some are reminders of where my family came from. Others prompt me to become a prayer warrior for future generations. One makes me lift my hands in thanks for a neighbor who watched over my kids. Another brings me to my knees for a kind, but lost colleague.

May God bless both your setting up -- and your packing up experiences.