Simple Thoughts for a Complex World

Life Through Different Eyes
Since I was a small boy, I thought of Christmas as a beautiful time: The lights, the crisp evening air, the sounds of Christmas carols on the radio, and who could forget those Claymation season specials? I remember laying under the Christmas tree, staring up into its branches lit with what seemed like a thousand little lights. The evergreen scent filled the air—an almost palpable sense of excitement.
It is incredible how time sweetens the memories and fades those memories that were, well, let's say, not so sweet. I remember one Christmas, my father braved the balmy 70-degree Florida December weather, cutting the first non-objectionable tree he found. In retrospect, it was a perfect tree, almost! I also remember that about three days after the tree was mounted and decorated, we discovered it was infested with seed ticks! You've never seen a tree so unceremoniously defrocked, dragged outside, and set on fire so quickly in your life!

Back then, the tree was just nailed to a base, with no water or such nonsense. I watched as my dad struck a match to that sucker! WHOOOF! The ball of fire climbed into the evening sky like something out of Die Hard! As a kid, I was very impressed! That was the start of my secret yearly tradition: the tree burning (sigh). Other than the seed ticks that now crawled through the house, they, too, went up in flames. I'm not sure if you're supposed to get a thrill out of burning a Christmas tree, but my father certainly did.

We bought and set up a small artificial tree for the remaining three days till Christmas against the better judgment of my father. It wasn't the same. Yep, real dried-out short needle pines, seed ticks, my father cursing as he dragged that infested tree through the kitchen to the back door, the sound of flames engulfing each branch; ahh, the memories of Christmas. They never get old.

Merry Christmas, everyone! May you and your memories be blessed this year.