Christmas Tree


Every year my family and I go to the same lot to pick out our Christmas tree. My sister and I run up and down the rows and rows of trees, inspecting each one until we both agree “this one….this one will be our tree this year.” We place it on a table next to the cashier’s box. The roaring of the chainsaw ripping into our tree’s stem releases the scent of Christmas. Back home my dad and I bring it into the house, set it up in our tree stand, and then step back to appreciate how crooked it is. My dad puts on the lights for us and then we all decorate. I am not a fan of decorating the tree. I only have my favorite ornament that I put on our tree each year. An oblong top (like the toy) shaped plastic ornament. Strips of green and red fall from its peak to the bottom of its figure with small golden beads adorning the grooves between each alternating color. I take a moment to appreciate my favorite ornament, then place it on the tile floor and, with my index finger and thumb on the top, give it a quick spin. The colors blend to form a Christmas gold, green, and red blend that makes my holiday.

At night, when my family has retired to their rooms, I sometimes walk outside to stare at our tree. Still crooked, shining with white, green, and red lights. Sometimes they dance, other times they stay stagnant, illuminating the shiny ornaments adorning the tree to give it a Christmas shine. Up-close I smell the tree as I pluck a few pines off its branches. I imagine presents under the tree, wrapped in shiny paper. Small boxes in blue, tall gifts in green paper with Santa faces all over, red rectangles across the floor with white wrapping bows. The excitement of Christmas Eve fills me as I return to my room to move one day closer to Christmas morning.


Tex is a DJ for KSSU, like listen and stuff.

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