A family Christmas tree set up anew each year. White lights, pine smell, brings life to the room.
Decorations speak of the family living here. Interests, hobbies, and life events are recorded amongst the limbs.
A wedding from seeming so long ago. Young faces, beautiful cake. 25 years later, so much and so fast.
A boy is evidenced. A train, comic characters, all declare a little boy. Absence of later years speak of absence more far-reaching. Grown up and living far away. He's here this year. Fondness touches that which he used to cherish.
A little girl in girlish charm is seen all around. Cats and angels, snowflakes and dolls. Christmas is her favorite time. A young woman now puts up these charms in sentimental care. Holding to what she knows, keeping them in her sight. The future stands with open arms, yet she looks back with heavy heart.
A trumpet, a cross, kindergarten crafts, beautiful gifts and treasures hang amongst the needles. As if to soften their likely prick.
What is this Christmas tree we always take pains to search for, cut down and drag home? Set up. Is it straight? Untangle the lights and perhaps buy new. Search for the blown out bulb. Keep the water supplied. Is it just a tradition? Some would say so.
For the once little girl it is very special. Memories of carefree days. Family together, sharing memories, making new. The years are now becoming different, the worries different than what they once were. Next year perhaps there will be an ornament to remember this year. Put up with tender thought. What will it tell of and where will we be?