O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree

I realized today that everyone has a Christmas tree story.  Whether it's the imitation tree you grew up with or the fantastical glory of chopping a new tree every year. 

So I thought about it.

What is my favorite tree story?

There's the tree we have now.  I bought it two days after Christmas a few years ago.  It was 75% off and pre-lit.  Bonus.  (If you did not read that word in a high pitched sing-song voice, you need to go back and read it again.)



December 2010
Emma convinced the kids to pretend they were watching a movie....



I think the tree was supposed to be the movie....

They are weird kids.

There's the tree we had back in college.  My roommate Tara and her dad picked up a tree for our apartment.  It was tall and a bit sparse.  A tall Charlie Brown-ish tree.

December 1996
Pardon the crop-job on this one.  It was the only pic I had of it.

There's also the one from when I was a kid.  We had one year in particular that our family just struggled.  I'll never forget it.  I was in second grade.  My mom took me and sat me down to explain that there wasn't enough money for very many presents and we wouldn't be able to have a tree that year.  I was disappointed, but I didn't want my parents to feel bad so I put on a brave face.  I got home from school one day and there was a decorated Christmas tree in our living room.  I said to my mom, "I thought we couldn't have a tree this year!"  She told me that this tree had been sitting on our doorstep and someone had ding-dong-ditched it.  That was a pleasant surprise during a difficult holiday season.  I don't have a picture of that one.

But I think my favorite memory (this year, at least) will be the tree from Josh's and my first Christmas.  I've probably already told you the story, but I can't remember for sure.  So I'll tell it again. 

Josh and I had gone to his parents' house to go sledding a few days before we got our tree.  They lived on this huge hill and it was ideal for such an activity.  Yes, the hill had slope, snow, and, unbeknownst to us, huge boulders hiding underneath the snow.  Josh and his sister went down the hill, hit one of these huge mounds of rock, and CRASHED!  The plastic sled they had flown down on splintered and busted into thousands of pieces.  Josh, who was in front, hit the rock with his butt.  His sister (who was about 11) slammed into Josh's back so hard that she was knocked unconscious.  The ride to the urgent care was perilous with Josh occasionally fainting out of pain.  The doctor told him he had a bruised tailbone, but we both wonder if there was a hairline fracture there that they missed.  (His sister was fine, btw, Josh gave her a blessing right there on the spot and she had no lasting problems.)

And yet, he still went trekking out into the Pike National Forest with me on our quest for the perfect tree for our first Christmas.  And he cut it down and even hauled it back to our Bronco II to bring it home.  He then took pain meds and went to bed.

December 1999

It's not a pretty tree.  I don't know that any of the trees you cut down from the forest really are beautiful.  They don't fit the ideal description of a large, bushy, full pine.  They're more mutt-ish.  But when the man you love trudges through the snow (and every time he lifts his leg high enough to clear the several inches of white stuff it causes severe pain in his rear) just to attempt a new tradition with his blushing bride, it's got to be a favorite memory. 

Granted, we have not gone to cut down our Christmas tree since, but it was a lovely thought.