I love everything Christmas…the music, decorations, gifts, family time, and wonderful themed stories. Every year when I begin to write my next Christmas story (usually as July rolls around) I am taken back to the heartwarming holiday memories of my childhood.
When the subject of Christmas gifts comes up, most people think of packages wrapped in colorful paper and shimmery bows, sitting under the Christmas tree, just waiting to be opened. But when I think of Christmas gifts, I think of my dad, who passed away eighteen years ago. He was a man of many talents and boundless wisdom, including the joy he shared for the traditions of Christmas.
Dad loved light—especially the light that brightened a fresh-cut pine tree. Each December first, like clockwork, Dad piled his family—all seven of us—into our Chevy station wagon and drove us down the road to the corner tree lot where, shivering in the Chicago-winter cold, we oohed and aahed over each and every fir until we found the perfect one.
Once home, with the tree safely arranged in a metal stand and watered, Dad climbed the ladder to our attic (a mysterious place, indeed) where the Christmas lights were stored. He’d lower the battered cardboard box (re-used, season after season) to the floor below where we all stood anxiously waiting.
Then my brother and sisters—five of us—gathered around him in the living room and waited, eyes huge with wonder, as he dusted cobwebs from the box, opened it, and carefully unraveled the strands of lights. He tested each one, and no matter how stubborn the bulbs, dad always managed to get them working.
Beautiful, vibrant colors turned the room to a kaleidoscope, dancing over walls and windows with the feel of winter magic. One by one, my siblings and I each took the place of honor beside Dad, helping him to adorn the tree with light. Pine sap clung to our fingers, but we didn’t care. All the while, our hearts soared with happiness and innocent wonder.
Finally, dad gently gathered the Christmas star from the box. Hushed with awe, we waited while he chose one of us to hoist to his shoulders for the greatest thrill—placing the treasured beacon of light—the star—atop the highest limb. Somehow, Dad always sensed who needed that extra touch of attention, and there was never any argument.
With the lights in place (just in time for nightfall) we circled the tree and held hands to sing a chorus of carols. In the earliest years, the tune didn’t always carry and the words were sometimes off, but Dad didn’t care. He knew we understood what the tree, and especially the lights, symbolized…the most wonderful gift of all!
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Merry Christmas in July! To celebrate I’m giving away an e-copy of my holiday story, Winter Wishes and Snowflake Kisses. Please comment below to be entered into the drawing. One name will be randomly selected on August 2. Good luck!
Mary Manners lives in the foothills of the Great Smoky Mountains of East Tennessee with her husband Tim and their rescue dog Axel, mischievous cats Colby and Rascal, 6 rambunctious chickens, and 13 fish. Mary writes small-town family romances laced with faith, hope, and humor. Her books have earned multiple accolades including two Inspirational Reader’s Choice Awards, the Gail Wilson Award of Excellence, the Aspen Gold, the Heart of Excellence, and the National Excellence in Romance Fiction Award. Mary loves long sunrise runs, Smoky Mountain sunsets, flavored coffee, and chocolate…lots of chocolate.
Hi Mary, I have just finished reading a book about creating memories for teens- memory events that connect teens and remind them of their place in God’s family. The tree lighting of your childhood is definitely a memory event- what a wonderful family event:)
Blessings:)
What a lovely memory and tradition! I will spare everyone the memories of my father putting up the Christmas tree….let’s just say I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, ?
Thank you for sharing!
I love your memories. I always wanted lights but we never had them on our tree. I think we did one year but they didn’t work right. we did have the icicles (It takes me days to do them). We had a real tree for a few years but we always went away the day after Christmas for about 3 or 4 weeks of the school holidays which meant we came home to a dead tree to deal with. We then had an artificial tree but we had a battered Cardboard box with the decorations.
I love Christmas too and now I am mostly home alone for Christmas day (after Christmas day service) but its ok. Last year I got to share it with a childhood friend and family (5 adults and 12 children 3 – 22) It was so much fun and I miss that. But when it comes to gifts I love to buy gifts to give to the giving trees (forget the title but where you leave gifts for those who need help). I tend to find things like after Mothers day they had some bears really cheap so I got them.
What great memories!! I remember one year my Daddy decided on a real cedar tree, because he wanted to plant it in our front yard after Christmas. I don’t remember the year he bought it, though it had to be in the late 1960’s or early 1970’s, but the tree thrived outside our front windows for years, until 2004 when a hurricane brought it down. I bought another cedar a few years later, and it’s thriving in our back yard. It was just a Charlie Brown tree when I bought it. With both trees, we’ll cut some of the smaller limbs and decorate inside with them.
Love your Christmas memories! I love Christmas and putting up the tree, lights, etc. But when it snows, that’s the best part.
In my very young years, Dad always cut a cedar tree from the farm we lived on. I still remember the star we used on top for years. I thought all Christmas trees were cedar and was surprised to find out different. :-) My favorite part was the tinsel. I haven’t used it for a long time because we have cats inside.
Hi Mary!
I love this blog post! What wonderful memories were created and cherished. THank you for sharing! :D
(not entering for the ebook)