How I found the perfect tree, and regained the holiday spirit
(Author photo)
OK, it’s not your grandmother’s Christmas tree; it’s a pillow. But it was a gift from a favorite friend last year, and when I pulled the holiday box down off the shelf, there it was on top, just begging to be The Tree.
How could I not?
If ever proof was needed for that old truism, ‘The bigger your children, the smaller your tree,’ I’m it. With the kids long grown and my enthusiasm for dealing with tinsel, glitter, angel hair and tangled strings of lights correspondingly diminished I was about to be tree-less several years ago. My faraway daughter couldn’t handle this idea, and promptly sent a lovely, if artificial, little three-foot-tall tree complete with lights already circling its piney green limbs and miniature baubles ready for hanging. The problem? Assembly required. I finally threw a party for a half-dozen dextrous friends and after several bottles of wine (I served, they drank because I don’t any more) we got it done.
I had to work through my inborn antipathy to artificial trees, but I became downright fond of the little faux pine with its twinkling lights and tiny baubles. The initial assembly was the most complicated; after that it folded back into its box and required only a few tricky openings-up and fittings-together to reappear the next holiday season. A small hassle to start the season.
It’s been a fine tree. I’ve had some great tree-assembly parties. But after the daily chaos of the past year I could not deal with even minimal holiday stress in my own home. I walked to town to soak up the wonders of the season at San Francisco’s Union Square:
(Author photo)
The Union Square tree is a beauty, though I do believe it’s artificial too, and you’d think we might have sprung for a giant spruce in a forest that needed to be thinned. Furthermore, couldn’t the Union Square people also strike a deal with whoever’s in charge of the giant billboard featuring a handsome hunk who seems to be stressing out over the scene? For a while there my Christmas spirit faltered.
I bought a cup of white chocolate mocha and sat down at an outdoor table with a couple from Denver who brought my spirits right back up. Their tree was up and decorated back home, and their children and grandchildren would all be coming, but they were having a holiday getaway first and they love San Francisco. I love tourists who love San Francisco.
I walked back home and contemplated the pillow-tree. Made of the softest velvet imaginable, it begs to be stroked. If you snuggle down on the sofa with a good book, it is happy to rest against your cheek. Even its little Star of Bethlehem is soft and cushy.
’tis the season to be comforted. Peace on earth.