I feel like Lucy sometimes. Except my pink tree is some 8ft fir, waiting to be found in the forest. We go in our horse drawn sleigh, bundled up, singing Christmas carols. We bring our giant home to decorate with ornate and elaborate ornaments, ribbon, tinsel, lights and one giant star on the top.
But really, sitting in our garage for eleven months, we have a tree we pull out of a box every year. Like Charlie Brown's tree, it seems to lose a few needles each time you touch it.
But it's ours. We don't need a pink, aluminum tree. We have each other. And our humble tree reminds me of a humble birth.
I love Christmas time.
