Growing up in our family, Christmas was a love-hate holiday. Mommy loved having a big tree. Of course, trees don’t look so big when they’re outdoors, so they’d buy a huge tree. Which meant that Daddy had to cut some off the top, or bottom, or both. Which meant that someone had to hold the tree while he cut (That someone was me). And did I mention that while Daddy was willing when it came to household fixes, no one would have labeled him “handy”?

Once the tree was finally cut down to size, it had to go into the tree stand. Back then, we didn’t have big tree stands like we do now. So that was another concern — how to get the big tree stabilized in the little base, then the base stabilized. Then, of course, it had to be straight. Never mind that the tree itself wasn’t straight, and God knows the cut on the bottom wasn’t either. And on it went. Then came my job of stringing the lights without jostling the tree in the slightest. To say getting the tree up was stressful is an understatement.

But when it was done, it was a source of great joy. Lots of people from all walks of life would drop by, not just to see the tree, but to see my folks or be part of our family for a few hours. They didn’t need a reason or an invitation. Friends went out of their way to be “passing by, so they thought they’d stop in.” We loved it. The tree was like the symbol of my parents warmth.

For many years after I moved away from home, I didn’t have a tree. Too much bother. No one to really care about it. Even after Rex and I were married, if he initiated it, we’d have a tree. Otherwise, I’d let it slide.

This year is different. One of our nieces from Norway has been living with us, and my husband wanted her to have a nice Christmas tree. I came home one day to find a beautiful tree sitting straight and tall in our living room. Of course, I fell right into place putting on the lights. Then we had a wonderful evening, decorating the tree and listening to Michael W. Smith’s It’s a Wonderful Christmas (great CD). To me, the tree celebrates that Jesus left heaven because He cares about broken hearts and lives. It was a special time.

I don’t take my situation this year for granted. I’m aware that plenty of people don’t have health, home, or loved ones nearby. They didn’t grow up with the joy (and stress) of putting up a big tree as part of a loving family. There are people for whom the pain of loss or fear of the future dominates their days. They may not even have horses to comfort them.

Whether your tree is in your living room or it’s the National tree in Washington, D.C., let it remind you of the angel’s greeting, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men.” Merry Christmas.