I’ll be honest, I’ve never been that involved in the process of finding, or cutting down, a Christmas tree.
As a kid, I remember watching my parents pushing and pulling our annual, large evergreen through the back door, across the kitchen, and into the living room, all the while (lovingly) telling me and my sister to stay out of the way (I’ve come to realize that excited children are tripping hazards to parents carrying large objects.) In college, there typically wasn’t the room, or money, to get a Christmas tree. Occasionally a roommate of mine would set one up by themselves in strong persistence to make our home more Christmas-y.
This year is different.
This year is my first Christmas with Matt as a married couple. We wanted a special tree and a fun, tree-seeking experience to mark this year as a joyful one.
Matt, our friends David, Carrie, and Sam, and I crammed into one car and drove out of town to find a U-Cut Christmas tree farm. With eggnog lattes in hand and the Charlie Brown Christmas soundtrack on the radio, I was (internally) experiencing some Buddy-the-Elf-level excitement to find the perfect Christmas tree.
Matt and I had our heart set on finding a giant tree. The ceilings in our loft are high, and we figured we should go big on this first Christmas of ours, because, well, why not?
Carrie and David came to visit from Seattle and ended up finding their Christmas tree, too! (Aren’t they the cutest?)
After walking around for a while in the mud and wind, we finally found our tree— 13 feet of Christmas glory.
Scouting out and cutting down this tree has become one of my best Christmas memories. Everything from the friendly staff at the farm to the strong scent of the trees was so . . . cheerful. And light.
That was just what I’ve been needing—a simple day in the fresh air with good company. There have been so many heavy and tragic events happening in the world lately, and my heart needed a break to remember that good still exists. That doesn’t mean looking away or forgetting. It means remembering that there is still light, and it can be found and shared, even in the brokenness of our world.
These little joys found in good memories like this one are so important to hold on to. J.M. Barrie once said, “God gave us memory so that we might have roses in December.” Well, here are my roses.