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My mom always insisted that the baby Jesus ornaments be in front and that the
wise men come from the east. My sister-in-law wraps each branch separately in
strand after strand of white lights. My best friend loves to bring home the
tallest tree she can find and has to hang the highest ornaments with the help
of a ladder and a long pole.
As for me, my goal is usually to fit on as many ornaments as
possible. We have boxes and boxes of a mishmosh of home-made and school-made
and memory-laden little doodads, and I want them all to hang on the tree, whose
branches seem to quiver with fear as the boxes are opened.
in lights and ornaments and tinsel and garland and stars and angels and
clothespin reindeer.
the tree lights go on, something magical happens. The ornaments disappear, and
suddenly you can see, in the mini-wattage glow of three hundred tiny twinkling
lights, a tree. In the middle of it all, under the glittery and sequined
frippery, is a beautiful, fragrant, quietly distinguished tree.
matters is the tree.
have to find a way to make it special. I want to serve the perfect meal, give
the best gifts, and somehow make sure that my family experiences all the warmth
and joy of the holiday season.
course. It is, after all, Jesus’ birthday. I try to keep myself focused on the
meaning of God’s coming among us, to re-tell my children the Christmas story
and remind them of the true basis for our Christmas celebrations. I try to
remember that Jesus is the Reason for the Season and to Keep Christ in
Christmas.
as nice as our Christmas day might be, I can’t help feeling that I haven’t done
it quite right. I couldn’t quite manage to make it fun, festive and all about
Jesus.
turn off the lights, plug in the twinklies, and let the ornaments disappear. It
would be nice to look past all the attempts to make it special and see what’s
underneath.
lovely, simple, quietly distinguished manger, wafting up the scent of hay and
forgiveness.
and preparations – the true meaning of Christmas is there, at the center of
things, without any help from me at all. I don’t have to keep Christ in
Christmas. He’s already there.
Jesus came for me, lived for me, and died for me, no matter what kind of a
birthday party I throw Him. Nothing I do, or don’t do, will take that baby out
of His mother’s arms. No ornamentation or omission of mine will change the fact
that God’s Son was born to live to die to rise to conquer death for me.
before we had kids. I believe it was Pastor who started it – from the comfort
of the recliner he reached into the ornament box, drew out a puffy fabric candy
cane, and flung it at the tree. It stuck. We spent the next half an hour
sending stars, reindeer and angels soaring through the air, giggling like
schoolkids and cheering when we scored a hit. The finished tree looked bizarre,
but I thought it was beautiful. I was reminded that year that decorations are
nice, but they don’t really matter.
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Julie J. Riddle 