Projo Holidays Blog

My childhood happened long before environmental consciousness took hold, so I know there wasn't any guilt associated with chopping down a live tree. I know that because I remember hearing stories ending in a "Shhh", about people cutting trees wherever they found them, like near the Scituate Reservoir with uncle so-and-so helping out. But suddenly we headed into a period that was anything but natural. We soon discovered the aluminum tree -- ours was white -- and each year we used decorations of one color only, and of course, the colored light wheel. So one year, all decorations were red, the next blue, and so on. (Gold was a particularly spectacular year.) But then we decided to go natural.

One memorable winter in my early teens, during one of my family's first "real-tree" years, we netted a big one, but I don't remember seeing any Tree Farm signs -- and I recall it was a really long ride to and from the place. The tree was a lot bigger in the car than it seemed while still standing, needless to say. We didn't even bale the thing, shoving it trunk first into the back of our Ford LTD Station Wagon, the top end hanging out of the back quite a ways. I do remember an air of secrecy as we were all just anxious to get home with it. The car was unbearably cold on the way home with the back hatch open and hence the windows open to let the fumes out. And the sap was unreal -- and lasting! The cut end was nearly touching the dashboard, so with the breadth of the tree and six people, the car was packed. We literally dragged it upstairs to the cathedral-ceilinged attic we'd just done over as a family room and it reached the ceiling (and wrecked a few door moldings along the way). My dad estimated it to be 14 feet tall, but I think that was a stretch.

Nowadays, my husband and daughters and I head to Connecticut to get a real tree about 2 weeks prior to Christmas. Then we decorate it right before Christmas Day. The scent of a fresh cut Fraser Fir in the house is just plain beautiful and at night, with only the tree lights on, it's absolutely magical. On top, we place a huge cardboard painted and glittered star that the girls made when they were only three years old. In my mind when I look at it, always the same thought -- imagine, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11 years ago they made this. I'm preserving it for them.

This is the painted cardboard star I made with my daughters when they were just 3.

They'll probably hide it away when they get it, just the way I did with the one my parents gave me when I moved away, because then they'll have their own special family star. I'll bet my parents even forgot they gave it to me!

This is the star my parents gave me. It needs wiring, but I still love it.

Here's a close up of the angel!

But I keep it packed away and look at it every year when I haul out the decorations, to remind me of the massive tree that made it look so insigificant way up there, 14 feet off the floor -- and the happiness that always filled our home at Christmas time.