Inside: Is it possible to find the perfect pine worthy of being a Christmas tree? Some thoughts on conifers and people while in pursuit of perfect pines.
Every year it’s the same–the search for the perfect pine. And in my mind’s eye, only the best will do.
Something without a bare spot. No missing branches. A vibrant green color. No dead spots or brown needles. Our assignment is pretty clear. We’re not some first-timers.
We head for the white pines. Something in the six-foot range. We approach each pine expectantly, Mike standing beside to measure height. One’s too tall. Another’s too wide. Branches are missing in this one. Too many brown spots in that one.
We continue the search as the land slopes below the Christmas tree farm shop. It soon becomes abundantly clear, as it does every December, that the perfect pine is elusive. We need to make adjustments. Decide what we can live with and make the best of nature’s imperfections. We settle on a tree with a bare spot toward the top, minimal brown needles. Height is just about right as Mike stands beside it. The color is good. This pine, we decide, will become our Christmas tree this year. I smile at our selection. Mike begins to saw. . .
Trees are a lot like people. We’re looking for that perfect person, whether for a spouse or a best friend or the salesclerk at a department store. Often we come with huge expectations. You must meet my needs. You must act appropriately. You must never disappoint me. But like the pines at the Christmas tree farm, we’ve got branches missing, some bare or even dead spots. Just as there are no perfect trees, there are no perfect people.
There is only one such spotless individual. And He’s the reason we’re trudging up and down hills on this beautiful day, sun on our faces, searching for the perfect not-so-perfect pine.
Real or artificial–which side are you on in the tree discussion? Tell us about it in the comments.
Related posts:
The 12 Posts of Christmas, Day 1: Return of the Hillbilly Christmas Wreath
The 12 Posts of Christmas, Day 2: Silent Night’s Story
The 12 Posts of Christmas, Day 3: Rosemary Walnuts
The 12 Posts of Christmas, Day 5: Symbols and Traditions
A Rural Girl’s Favorite Things Christmas Gift Guide
Slowing Down to Enjoy Christmas
Posts from a year ago:
The 12 Posts of Christmas (2017), Day 4: A Truly Southern Christmas
Ann Harke
Love this post!
Of course my tree was “perfect.”
Helps me also to see people in the right light,
The light of Jesus.
amy@amyharkemoore.com
Yeah, I think it was in a little better shape than ours, but both were (are) good solid trees. 🙂
Karen
Amy, I will share from one of my childhood Christmas memories that involves our Grandma Harke and her perfect Christmas tree.
Being your older cousin and being sixty two years old, that is reaching pretty far back in the memory file, but here goes.
I was probably at the seven to nine years old mark. It was getting close to Christmas and as I often did, was visiting our grandparents up at the ” home place.” That particular visit, the topic of conversation revolved around the mysterious Christmas tree caper.
Grandpa and Grandma Harke NEVER had a store bought tree. As most farmers did, they simply traversed the wooded parts of their land and found the best candidate for the festive tree among the wild Red Cedars that grow so well in our area.
Well, all except our Grandma, who had chosen the Christmas tree for that particular year, way back in the spring. Throughout the summer and fall she periodically trudged into the woods to trim and shape the selected cedar so it would present as the perfect specimen after all the lights and tinsel had been placed.
Imagine her disappointment when she and Grandpa went to cut down her tree shortly before Christmas….and it was gone. The tree she had nurtured and pampered all year long was most certainly standing in someone else’s living room, perfectly gleaming in glistening splendor.
Who was the culprit?
Of course, the list of suspects was short. Back then, neighbors were few and living only on other farms. Whoever bagged Grandma’s perfect Christmas tree would have to have walked onto the property to obtain it and leave the same way.
I still remember family members sitting around the dining room table discussing the whole situation; how the name of the suspected Christmas tree napper came down to one particular person, but I will never tell who that was. In the end, everybody just let it go and laughed about it.
Grandpa and Grandma did have a tree that year. It wasn’t the perfect tree they thought they would have but held no grudge that one of their neighbors did.
amy@amyharkemoore.com
Karen, thank you for sharing this story! The grandma I knew was so different than the one you describe here. It’s good to know this side of her. . .
The older I get, the more I treasure these family stories! By sharing this story, you have given me a nice little “gift” to tuck under my Christmas tree this year! 😊 Thank you so much!
And Merry Christmas, Cousin! 😀