Cedar and Light: A Country Christmas Tree Memory

I’ve always loved Christmas and my family’s traditions celebrating the birth of Jesus. Many of those traditions, along with family members, have slipped away, alive only in memory. One such tradition when I was quite young was finding the family Christmas tree in our woods. It wasn’t just any tree, but a special and rare tree among the many pines.

Christmas, 1959

I was in the second grade one December day when I set out with my brothers, Ronnie and Larry, to walk to the woods to find a Christmas tree. Usually, they balked at having their little sister tag along, but it was Christmas and the tree was for the whole family, so they let me join them. I hoped I’d be the one to find the tree.   

Larry, being  the oldest, carried the ax. We knew what we were looking for—a well-shaped cedar tree just tall enough to fit in front of our living room window.

The air was clear and cold, and as we reached the woods, I breathed in the sappy scent of pine trees and the musty odor of brown pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. Cedars were rare in this pine forest with scattered hardwoods, and we tramped around for about a half hour searching for prospective trees. The woods were quiet and still except for crunching leaves, the crack of breaking twigs under our feet, and an occasional “ouch” when a briar caught our legs.

“How about this one?” Ronnie pointed towards a young cedar with strong branches, about eight feet tall. We all circled the tree, eyeing it from every angle.

“Yeah, this’ll do,” Larry said.

“It’s the one,” I nodded. Ronnie beamed. He had found the perfect tree.

Cedar Branch (photo by Adam Kring, Unsplash)

Ronnie and I stood back as Larry swung the ax a few times until the tree toppled. They each grabbed an end of the tree, and I followed as we  made our way out of the woods and headed towards home. We joked with each other all the way back because we had found a beautiful tree for Christmas. 

Mama clasped her hands together when she saw it. “Oh, it’s a nice tree,” she said, smiling.

In the living room, my brothers placed the cedar in a green and red metal stand, and Mama pulled out the few decorations we used year after year: a sting of large multi-colored lights, a red plastic garland, and a silver foil garland. The only other ornament was a foil star that perched on top.

We didn’t exchange gifts among family members then, so no presents sat under the tree. Instead, Santa left unwrapped gifts on Christmas Eve night for all five siblings, not under the tree but spread out on the couch and chairs for each child. My older sister roused her brothers and sisters before dawn to come see what Santa left us. The fire in the wood heater had died hours earlier, and we stood shivering as we examined each other’s presents by the dim glow of the Christmas tree lights. We tried to keep our voices low, but Mama and Daddy soon emerged to shoo us back to bed until Christmas morning.   

Our sparsely decorated Christmas tree from the woods lit up my heart that day and ever since. I stared at it with wonder, feeling overwhelming happiness that I still feel just remembering it and all it represented then and now.  

Reflections Today

As I reflect on why a Christmas tree brings me such joy, I am reminded that the Christmas star, the offerings of the Magi, and the simplicity of a lone tree sparkling with light are all emblems of the importance of Jesus’s birth, an unwrapped gift for humanity.

My early memories continue to inspire me as I reflect on the beauty of Christmas, the love of family, the loss of loved ones, and the woods that endure, although finding a cedar tree in that forest is as rare as ever.