I guess it’s a feeling that you have to wait for; something you won’t appreciate until you’re older and a little wiser. To a child, a Christmas tree is a bright seven-foot wonder; the ornaments are shiny and pretty. A child has no sense as to what those ornaments really mean, where that ornament was purchased at or who it belonged to. It’s something not appreciated for many years to come.
That was me. I had no appreciation to any of it. I thought they were pretty, some were cute, but to me, they were just dangly objects hung on tree branches. I had to grow up a bit and have a family of my own to appreciate the fragility of not just the ornaments, but of life.
This past weekend, my family and I decorated our Christmas tree. I have two small children now and have collected a few of those special ornaments throughout the year– a few “My First Christmas” that announce the pride of my two baby boys, along with some messy over-glittered popsicle stick trees and tiny handprints made to look like a Santa Claus. My boys eagerly placed plastic and toddler-safe ornaments on the tree while my husband and I took care of the more special ones. That is when I caught myself holding those ornaments a little longer while feeling sentimental– how did we get to another year already?
Then I came across one that is in its own little jewelry box by itself. I know which one it is so I had to prepare myself.
I open the little white box and a heart-shaped ornament with a picture of my husband and I stared back at me with the words “Our First Christmas”. Like the others so dear to my heart, I hold this one a little longer and study it before placing it on the tree. It’s very meaningful to me. It was from my dad.
My dad passed away three years ago and while it never gets easier, it’s really hard around this time of year. All of those memories flood back to me when I was a child: I remember going to that Christmas Land with him years ago and setting up all of those decorations; I remember our Christmas tree when I was a child, multi-colored lights with an over-abundance of various ornaments that left no empty space available; I remember my dad’s face during it all. His smile forever ingrained in my heart.
This is why Christmas means so much to me. It’s not about the presents or the excuse to eat delicious food. It’s about the memories. It’s about the history of that Christmas tree and those ornaments. It’s about remembering loved ones that are no longer with us, but to feel at peace knowing they are celebrating their own Christmas with our Heavenly Father.
I’ve come to learn something, year after year at Christmas-time, and it’s this: like those precious ornaments, life is just as fragile, if not more. So hold on tight to the people you love most before they become a memory. And admire the beauty in all things….like a Christmas tree.
