Missing Trees and Holiday Spirit

When Miss K was a mere kitten, at this time of year Christmas trees were everywhere. In fact, State Street during Christmas smelled like one big can of Wizard Evergreen air freshener. This year, try as I might, there is little pine scented air to be whiffed; as it seems the tree lots are now as scarce as mistletoe in The Raiders locker room.

In the absence of a real-McCoy pine tree, is the unmistakable and NOT memory evocable, scent of fake, plastic, undying and never lived, “tree”-in–a-box. For $59.95 holiday fake-tree can be set up in minutes, with lights already strung (perfectly, as if Chinese engineers had carefully measured their exact relative position) and bendable wire branches ready for the Martha Stewart set of antique vintage made-last-month-in-China-decorations (perfectly coordinated to go with Martha’s made-in-China-last-month guest towels in the bathroom). Is there anything so obviously inferior to the real thing as this sad and sorry imitation of an icon of Holiday expression?

Did you know that late in the Middle Ages, Germans and Scandinavians placed evergreen trees inside their homes or just outside their doors to show their hope in the forthcoming spring? Our modern Christmas tree evolved from these early traditions and the Christmas tree market was born in 1851 when Catskill farmer Mark Carr hauled two ox sleds of evergreens into New York City and sold them all.

By 1900, one in five American families had a Christmas tree, and 20 years later, the custom was nearly universal, until the relatively recent arrival of trees-in-box. Just like its cousin, wine-in-a-box, the fake trees will never be able to really compete with the original. The guilty feeling that is isn’t quite right - and is a bit of cheating- overwhelms the ease and convenience (not to mention the missing out on the ever-popular annual lashing of the tree to the car roof top antics).

Like a burnt out Rudolph, now lost in the dark, is the slow demise of the Christmas Tree- the free squirrel jungle gym, the Hilton for the birds and a long standing tradition dating back centuries, that bit of out-doors brought inside for so many reasons, a sign? Does it point to how much of our lives are less than real in exchange for convenience or lack of thinking through, just why we need our rituals? In a world where we can see as much plastic walking around as there is in an Toys are Us store, just how much deluding is really gone on after all?

Regardless of what propaganda Camp Jaded is spouting this holiday season, real is always better. It can take some thought to sort through and find the real sometimes. The Grinch platform espouses that there shouldn’t be an expected time of year to give gifts. “We are being told by consumerism to do so, therefore it isn’t real”. Baa Humbug! Gift giving is a beautiful thing. Just like your mommy told you: the joy really does belong to the giver - and if there is a time of year that we need to get in touch with that joy, at least we can give Permission to ourselves to do so at this special time of year, and that makes it real.

Rituals are a necessary and lovely part of being human. It is never trite and empty to acknowledge what makes us feel good. Maybe the most beautiful part of traditions is they remind us of our personal history and give us hope and comfort when we need it. Maybe when lives are changing as fast as a kid tearing though wrapping paper, we need the clock to slow down enough to let us see that some things, even if they have changed, for better or for worse, have an element of sameness. Some things will always be, even if the form changes through the years.

Like an old and much loved Christmas Angel, with broken wings, dog bite marks and patchy glitter, gazing down from the top of a real tree, finding the real and poignant reasons that we celebrate this season the way we do, is well worth the work and cost. “Truly priceless” is as overused an expression as “I love you”, but when you take the time and sit with your holiday rituals, you can remember what is real, for you, and then it all makes sense.

Have a naughty day!