Oh, how I envy the well-decorated Christmas tree with all its matching ribbons, ornaments, and pretty tree topper. I see these trees in department stores, magazines, and friends homes and I’m in awe.
Now, our Christmas tree (we have two by the way and this statement applies to both) is not so “matching” and the ornaments are extremely random—from homemade ornaments we make each year, to BYU and the UofU ornaments we have hanging at equal heights at the top of the tree so no team is considered better than the other.
I do have the tree all in red lights, red and silver ornaments, red LCD ribbon (super cool by the way) wrapped around it with a matching red star perched on the top. But that is where all matching ends. Our tree is not magazine worthy by any means.
But our tree is remarkable and I love it. Because I know that when the day comes in which I have this ultra-gorgeous looking tree, my children will have grown and moved away. They will have taken with them the ornaments we make each year as a family tradition, the ballet girl, the princess crown, the Monsters Inc, the paper bird, the school-made ornaments (I still hang Caden’s preschool ornament), the trains, the horse, the Carebear, and Hello Kitty.
Maybe our tree isn’t fancy, but all you have to do is point to nearly ornament and I can tell you a little something about why it is there. The white and blue ceramic ornament—my church Sunday school teacher made it for me when I was twelve. The cream colored heart with two little red birds—the ornament I made for Scott when we were engaged to be married. There is an ornament for our first Christmas together, and one for each child’s birth. There are ornaments made by cousins and ones given to us by family members. Each is unique and wonderful, and each tells a story.
I love my tree. It’s a little goofy looking (a string of lights died on it just the other day) but that’s okay. It looks great to me.