Our Real Tree

For the first time in 3 years, we bought a Christmas tree. This makes me really happy. We have been offered a couple of different artificial trees as our friends and family members have gotten new ones, but I have held out for the real thing.

I’m not sure why I insist on a real tree every year. They are messy. And the branches often fall, leaving gaping holes. And, they die. And it’s harder to hang those heavy ornaments on.

But, the smell makes up for all of that. There’s something about walking into a house with the pine smell assaulting you as you go through the door that makes me almost giddy.

My tree will never be photographed for a magazine. In most people’s opinion, it’s probably pretty lame. For one thing, the ornaments don’t all match. It’s pretty hodge-podge with things that Brian’s Gran made, things the girls have made, and our eclectic collection of angels, soccer players, ballerinas and country-themed ornaments.

For another, I don’t use white lights on it—it’s full of color. I know, the white is so much classier (and I do use them in my garland over my mantle), but there’s just something about the colored lights on my tree that fits the Royal family.

I love looking at beautifully-decorated trees. But I love ours, too. It’s a reminder to me that beauty comes in many different forms. And some of the most beautiful things are those things that are authentic, exposing their flaws for all to see, but which stand tall anyway.