The Eyes of the Beholder

A good friend of mine creates “themed” Christmas trees, using a different theme each year.  One year, it was a Mardi Gras tree, respendent in gold,  silver and purple.  Another  year, “let it snow” provided inspiration for an exquisite tree decorated only in white ornaments and strings of pearls.  Her tress make you catch your breath like a perfect kiss in a romance novel.  Probably, in her eyes and maybe to others, my tree is quite mundate.

But each year, when I open the box that holds the tree ornaments, the memories come pouring out, and for the next hour–and the following twenty days or so–I’m reminded of so many precious moments.  We still have popsicle-stick picture frames with photos of the kids 30 years ago.  We have souvenir ornaments of wonderful vacations–a small lobster trap from Nova Scotia, a tiny Eiffel Tower from Paris, a miniature Lincoln Memorial from Washington DC.  We have decorative balls with special years painted in glitter.  And branch after branch holds loving memories of sweet students who moved through my classes for 30 years, leaving their footprints on my heart … and an ornament on my tree.

 I love my tree.  It’s wholesome and nostalgic.  It wouldn’t win any beauty pageants, but I think its  sweet nature would put in in the running for Miss Congeniality.

So how about your tree?  Gorgeous or sweet?  Miss Tree America or Miss Tree Congeniality?