NORMAN V. KELLY
When I was a child, living in El
Vista with my large family, having a Christmas tree was never taken for
granted. I wrote about how my mother
managed to make a Christmas tree out of sheets, tinsel and lights. So, when I
became a father, I vowed that I would provide a beautiful tree for my kids no
matter what I had to do to keep that promise. Let’s face it getting a tree is
simply a matter of having the money to pay for it…that’s a bit cruel, but
certainly true.
Each year I tried to make an
adventure out of finding just the right tree, and my son and daughter loved the
whole idea of cutting down their own tree.
They usually started talking about Santa and their tree long before
Thanksgiving was celebrated so by the first week of December they were raring
to go. Breakfast was a rather hurried thing that Saturday morning the first
week-end in December as we rushed around getting ready. Since we would be going out among a lot of
folks looking for the perfect Christmas tree, our big dog was left at home. Bundled
up in the old Chevy we headed out to two tree farms that sold Christmas trees
that you were allowed to cut down yourself.
That’s what the kids loved to do, and so did I. Mom always stayed at home promising hot dogs,
hot chocolate and roasted marshmallows when we triumphantly returned home.
The first tree farm had a lot of
happy customers and we hurriedly grabbed the saw, some pink ribbons, and our
sled and joined the eager tree hunters. If you know young kids, you know they
love to bicker, and mine were very good at it. Lynne always wanted a tree that
we could not even fit on the roof of the car, let alone inside our living
room. Keith on the other hand, liked the
short, round little trees, so the battle never ceased. Finally we attached two pink ribbons on trees
they finally agreed on. But…which one
would it be? We realized that the ribbons did not mean anything to anyone else,
so we left them and drove a few miles down the road to the next tree farm. It
was festive and smelled of pine and spruce.
We were greeted by two little elves, handed cups of hot chocolate and
led over to a large stone fireplace.
Branches of pine and spruce were burning and the aroma brought back
wonderful Christmas memories of my own. My kids must have caught the spirit
because they quickly put ribbons on two beautiful trees, much too tall, of
course. As we pulled the sled through
the trees, we could here old Bing Crosby singing ‘White Christmas.’ Every person we met greeted us with a Merry
Christmas, and we returned the greeting. The snow was thickening, and my kids
giggled and fired snow balls at each other and even the elves joined in the
fun. Trying to influence my kids, and get back home, I stood in front of a
magnificent tree and pointed. “Now kids, here is a tree that would fit in the
living room and I am sure your mom would love it.” To my utter surprise they
quickly agreed and after I made the first cut, they took turns cutting the
beautiful tree down. They yelled the mandatory ‘Timber,’ and helped put it on
the sled. Santa Claus helped tie it on
the car roof and off we went to surprise their mom with the most perfect tree
she had ever seen.
That evening the living room looked
like the bargain basement of an after Christmas sale, with lights, wires and
ornaments strewn over every inch of the room.
Slowly, and with glee the tree began to take on the most beautiful
colors of the year. Homemade popcorn strings, red cranberries and silver tinsel
were topped off by me climbing the ladder to add my mother’s adorable little angel.
Finally! The big moment arrived. The usual argument ensued over which child would
throw the switch, but this year I out foxed them with dual switches. With the
lights out we counted down ten…nine, and finally the tree came alive. We basked
in the afterglow of our magnificent Christmas tree. We oohed and aahed, hugged
and wiping away tears we sang, “O Christmas Tree.” I know my wife and I say it almost every
year, but this was the most beautiful tree we ever had. Of course, next Christmas I bet my kids and I
can find an even more perfect tree…you think? Merry Christmas from Peoria , Illinois
That Saturday dawned dark and dreary
with the threat of a substantial snow storm coming our way. We hoped in the old Chevy and headed out to a
friend’s farm near Princeville, Illinois.
Baron, my big German shepherd sat in the front seat with me and the kids
took over the back seat. We were an
excited bunch as we set out on our quest for the perfect tree.
My friend, Mel, added to the fun when
he took us out on a hayrack, his big tractor up front chugging away. With some coaxing Baron hoped up with us and
off we went. Mel dropped us off among
hundreds of spruce trees and said he would be back in a couple of hours. We felt alone and isolated once the tractor
disappeared but we were eager to take a look at every one of those trees. Almost immediately the little arguments
started as first Lynne, and then Keith were positive they had spied the exact
tree we were looking for.
Baron could care less about all the
bickering as he zipped around, nose to the ground, chasing mythical monsters
that lived in the vast woods. My wife had supplied colorful ribbons for us to
attach to each tree that we thought would be our next Christmas tree. After five trees, I ran out of ribbons and we
still had not decided. I glanced at my watch and found we had a full hour left
as I saw the first flake of snow. The
kids ran around with their mouths open catching the big flakes on their
tongues. Ten minutes later we could
barely see each other as the snow began to cover us up, head to toe. Baron was completely out of sight when I
heard him bark off to the right. I
called to the kids, but only Keith answered.
I called Baron and Keith together,
continuing our calls to Lynne. No answer
from her. The wind began to kick up and
the snow thickened. I could feel the
panic in my stomach as we yelled at the top of our lungs.
I called to Baron, taking his head in
both hands, I begged him. “Baron…find Lynne…go find Lynne.” The big dog broke from my grip and ran off to
the west, almost the same place where I had heard him barking. Dumb me. I
realized that Baron had barked because he must have seen her wandering off.
I took the rope I had with me to tie
the tree on the car and wrapped it around Keith’s waist and held it firmly with
my hand. With the saw in my right hand and the rope in my left hand we hurried
off to try and find Lynne. I knew she was covered with snow and probably crying
her eyes out by now.
I yelled to Baron but the sound of my
voice was quickly lost in the wind. We hurried along, calling and
listening. Finally I heard the big dog’s
voice calling out to me. Keith and I
took off running. We found him under a
big Spruce tree, tugging at Lynne’s snow suit.
She screamed as I raced up to her and picked her up. “You look like a snowman, Lynne,” I said
hugging her. “I feel like one too” she
said, burying her face to my chest. As we walked back toward the clearing,
Mel’s big tractor appeared out of the snow. He had to laugh as he helped the
three snowmen up onto the hay rack.
Baron shook himself and hopped up with us.
“Mel, I think I’ll take this tree
cutting expedition to a Christmas tree lot in town.” Mel laughed, “Good idea.”
norman.kelly@sbcglobal.net Norm has a monthly story in News and
Views.
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