The Happiest Christmas

 

A Tree!

The happiest Christmas that I remember is when I was eight years old. This was not a Christmas laced with plenty of materials goods, in fact quite the opposite. This was a Christmas that was laced with a mother's  love and the childhood expectations of a visit from Santa.

I remember that some tree trimming truck had passed our house on the way to the city dump. The driver took the corner too fast, and a big branch rolled off of his truck. Though the branch was a bit misshapen, it was a cedar branch, nonetheless! Can you imagine the joy that I experienced when that truck dropped that branch, and it landed right on the edge of our yard?! I was ecstatic. I felt like Jesus had sent us a tree because I had wanted one so badly!

What did I do, I dragged it into the house and lay it in the front room. It smelled so Christmasy! Closed and locked the front door and pulled the curtain down. Then I set to work. I went out of the back door to a pile of overgrown bricks and concrete blocks that some workmen had left there. And I got four bricks from the pile and took them into the house. Had to make two trips because I could not carry all of the bricks at the same time. I wedged the branch between the bricks, but it would not stand up straight, so I leaned it against the window. It was so tall that the top part of it touched the ceiling. But it still didn't look right. "It is supposed to stand up and not be leaning against the window!," I thought with a wail.

What to Do

I went back out to the pile left by the workmen, and I drug a concrete block out. I tumbled it over and over until I got it to the back steps. Then I struggled and walked it end over end up the back steps and finally into the back door. I shut and locked the back door and sat down to catch my breath. Then after getting me a drink of water from the sink, I tumbled the concrete block end over end all the way down to the living room. I had to tumble it end over end through two rooms, down a hall, and through two more rooms. But, I got it to the front room. I scooted the block over to where the base of the limb was and moved the bricks. The limb was pretty stationery because it had its weight on the floor and up against the window facing. It took some sweating and maneuvering from my eight-year-old self, but I got that limb into the middle hole of the concrete block, and the limb sat upright with a thud. Aha! Now we had a tree, of sorts, that was upright. It didn't matter that it was lopsided. It didn't matter that there were no gifts there because Santa was not due to arrive yet.

Decorations

Every tree worth its salt has to have some decorations. So, I got in Momma's box of icicles and started flinging the silvery strands over the tree. I had to drag a chair out of the kitchen to reach some of the top parts, but I got it done. I wished that I had some Christmas balls to put on the tree, but that was okay. We had a tree, and it smelled Christmasy. It was just fine by me.

I got Momma's white tissue folded paper that was from last year and wrapped some of it around the concrete block. I took the rest of the tissue paper and lay it around the base of the tree like a skirt. Momma had bought one bag of soft multi-colored Christmas candy, and I lay that under the tree.

Imagine the Joy

I can still see the joy in my Momma's eyes when she came in the door and saw that branch-tree. My brothers were just as excited when they came home from playing, too. Momma gave me one of those looks that I was going to come to know well. You know, those "How-in-the-world!," looks.

And Now

That was many Christmases ago, but I have never forgotten the joy and wonder of that branch being dropped at our front door, so to speak. That Christmas helped to cement stars in my eyes that, though they have been rattled and shaken, remain to this day. My point in all of this? I didn't know it then, but I had received my first care package from heaven which was to carry me through many a tough time.

Though I have been blessed with many a Christmas where the materials blessings were plentiful, there has never been one like that Christmas when a tree landed at the feet of a wide-eyed eight-year-old.

Y'all be blessed now, ya hear?

Doing What I Can, While I Can Because I Care,

Alma L. Stepping On Carr-Jones