"I hope to put up the tannenbaum tonight," my daughter told me over the phone. She used the German word, to avoid excess excitement among the four children.
It didn't work. "What's a Tannin' Bomb, Mama? What is that? WHAT IS THAT?" I hear the jumping Beans - not a bit excited, oh, no.
They'll know it soon, if they don't already. Their tannenbaum is their artificial Christmas tree. I love hers - it's the one we used most of our daughter's childhood. We passed it down after we moved to a home too small for its reach.
I also passed on some of the precious ornaments she grew up with, crafted during the Preacher's and my first Christmases together. I recall best the miniature gold fans (made with Imperial Margarine wrappers) decorated with marabou feathers and tiny doves of peace.
Do you put up a tree? people ask me near Christmas.
I tell them we've always included some type of tree in our Christmas celebrations. We chopped down a few ourselves. During the years we lived on Vancouver Island, when the children were barely walking, we hauled them to the peaks of still-active volcanoes, battling snow-blindness, frostbite, cougars and grizzlies. Searching for perfection, as tradition dictates.
My memories may be somewhat flawed. But we did fetch a few from the real Canadian outdoors. You've probably suspected this, but the Currier and Ives Christmas cards that portray the annual tannenbaum hunt lies. Many families who go Christmas tree hunting arrive home in a communication deep freeze. Our eventual switch to artificial may have saved our marriage.
When the children left home, we left the large tree boxed up in the basement. Change felt not only appropriate, but necessary. I found a bare willow beside a country road, brought it home and strung it with a single string of white lights. Two years later, I bought a tall and very skinny pine. That one stayed bare too, but for lights.
When the grandchildren started arriving, we dusted off the tannenbaum. Brought out our most cherished ornaments - the story-telling ones. No Santas or elves; mainly stars, musical instruments, manger scenes and scores of angels.
Do we put up a tree? Oh yes. We do, though a narrower one these days, to fit our space. I love its beauty, but it's never about the tree, it's all about the story. Each year, we tell it often, to whichever grandbeans are nearby and willing to listen: "One night a looooong time ago - maybe there were stars like these lights - God's angels filled the sky singing "GLORIA. Jesus is born!"
They always listen, eyes shining. They finger the angels, the stars, the tiny crèches. These days, even the baby tries singing "Silent night holy night.
Do we put up a tree? Absolutely. Not for the beautiful tree, but to tell the true, and truly incomparable, story of our beautiful Saviour. As you prepare your homeI pray you the joy of that story, too.
