Random Christmas Memory
December 23, 2008I’ve decided to randomly jot down memories as good writing practice.
I was maybe seven or eight at the time, and Christmas was still the most joyous time of year. The television set, center of my lackadaisical youth life and constant object of strife amongst me and my siblings, was suddenly an object of wonder, as it was filled with portrayals of snow white winters, candy canes, christmas stockings, and wholesome family joy. We even had a Christmas tree, the same one we’d been using for a few years in a row by then, but my mom would always bring out decorations and we’d stick them on: sparkling red balls, candy canes, the colorful lights, I think we even had a star. It wasn’t the greatest thing ever, but it was ours, and the way it dominated our living room in its corner would never cease to remind me that this indeed was a special time of year. It was Christmas!
One night, I had some trouble sleeping. Perhaps I’d had too much sugar, perhaps I had been bouncing off the walls, but regardless I crawl out of bed at perhaps the late hour of 11 o’clock in the evening. The hallway is dark, but still glows with flickering luminescence. I trot out to the living room with my small feet and maybe 4 foot stature, and I see my dad sitting in the corner where our computer is. He’s playing solitaire, and because he is the coolest dad in the world he always wins! I was always proud of him; maybe one day I’d be that good at cards too! Alas, it’s been years and years, and that skill constantly eludes me.
My dad sees me and tells me to go back to bed, and as an obedient child I know I should, but my eyes set sights on the Christmas tree. The lights draped on its plastic branches, white and red and green, illuminate the whole room in a dim mix of yellow, and the tree itself dazzles as the light flickers off the glittering ornaments and reflective wrapping of the presents underneath. And as I stand there, my entire being transfixed on this glimmering beacon of holiday spirit, I hear the tune, a simple yet unforgettable tune: “Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how are they leaves so verdant?” There were no words, but the tune, in all its primitive low-quality electric glory, would forever be etched into my memory, and from that day forward I would always hear that tune whenever I thought of Christmas trees.
I went back to bed, of course. Eventually the tree was gone. Eventually my dad was gone. But though I’m older now, that scene has never eluded me. It’s why Christmas still has meaning to me, even though I know how commercial it all really is, even though I don’t indulge in Christmas movie marathons or eat candy canes for breakfast anymore. Although Christmas has lost some of its sparkle, its magic, when I think about that time, I still remember why Christmas is my favorite holiday.
