The Christmas tree that dominates my childhood memories was tall and bushy. Although it was an artificial metallic one, it was beautiful. The silvery tinsel branches shimmered and the baubles stood out like jewels. I didn't understand it when one year my mother said that the tree's time had come, we needed something new.
Before I sat down to write this post, I dug out a few pictures of that lovely tree.
Sadly, the photographic evidence does not do my memory justice. The tree is smaller than I recall. Not tiny, but small enough that it is almost obscured in the photos by a child standing in front of it. The silvery tinsel is duller than my memory would have it. The branches.. well, they look like they could put a running child's eye out. The baubles, although there, are not quite as plentiful as I imagined.
Looking at those old photos of myself and my siblings (who wouldn't appreciate me posting picures of them here) there is something else that strikes me about the picture of us sitting around that tree...
It's the joy, shining from our faces.
The photographic evidence confirms it - that tree was beautiful!
This post is part of the Advent Calendar of Christmas Memories, hosted by Geneabloggers.
Your post reminds me of the trees my Dad used to cut himself for our Christmases. They were not grown on a farm and regularly trimmed. They were always crooked, with bald spots that I can see now in photos. But when I was little they were so beautiful!
ReplyDeleteAh, the benefits of rose-coloured spectacles!
ReplyDeleteI have the same sensation when I look at old photos of our Christmas trees - they were kind of short and scrawny, not at all what I remembered!
ReplyDelete