“PJs and presents, peppermint and pecan pie…These are a few of our favorite things…”
Two Decembers ago, well before 2020 was even a thought, I conducted a nonofficial poll on Facebook. My question was this: What is your favorite Christmas tradition?
Many of you replied immediately (thank you!) with responses like these:
· getting (and giving) Christmas pajamas on Christmas Eve,
· taking turns opening presents,
· cutting your own tree at a tree farm,
· putting up the tree the day after Thanksgiving,
· playing special music playing while you’re decorating,
· eating special Christmas foods like homemade ravioli, steak, turkey and dressing,
· driving through local neighborhoods looking at all the decorated houses and lights,
· receiving Christmas cards and keeping up with new and old friends.
It’s fun to hear about these and other traditions you enjoy.
Getting the Christmas tree is one of my favorites too.
Our tree “farm” sits on a busy four-lane highway, nestled beneath power lines, in a grassy field beside a church. The trio of young men who run the tree lot come back every year, staying in a trailer on the property the entire Christmas season. They are clad in flannel shirts, work pants, boots, and beanies; their clothes add to the festive atmosphere.
We always spend time talking with them, getting their news on the latest weather, tree sales, and life on the lot. Yesterday I noticed for the first-time that they now have wrinkles lining their foreheads above their masks and a few crows-feet, too.
Of course, we have quite a few more wrinkles than they do. We started going to this lot about 15 years ago, with a little girl who’s not so little anymore. While the men wrap up our new tree and strap it to the car, she always gets a cup of hot cider and I always grab a few Hershey minis. Though she’s still at college up north, she’ll be home in less than a week (and yes, I’m counting the days).
In addition to trees, the tree lot also offers wreaths, a campfire, a cornhole game, and the recent addition of goats from a local petting zoo. I always say hey to the goats; they usually say baaa back.
Even though our tree is now a suburban dweller, its roots are a tree farm in North Carolina. And every year, I look forward to bringing it home.
I’m thankful that in a year that has brought masks and mayhem, some traditions can still be enjoyed. And I think they will mean more, too, whether they are old or new.
So, my friends, enjoy your pajamas and peppermint mochas, your pecan pie and presents, and may this Christmas season be not only memorable but meaningful as well. Merry Christmas, and God bless you, every one.
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