Our Christmas tree is leaning slightly. We need to fix that or it's current angle will slowly drive me crazy amid all of the holiday hubbub. That said, it is a lovely tree; it has a beautiful shape, is tall enough, and has a bevy of small openings in which ornaments are tucked. This tree feels diminutive, although given a paper with it's measurements written down, you may not think so. This tree decided to drink water for me, I think because I told it I was grateful it was our Christmas tree.
That sounds like a funny thing, but we got the tree home after stopping to get hamburgers for five hungry kids, and while my trees of the past few years have slurped up water as fast as they could the first while, this tree was reticent. It was also dry. Not too dry. But had the day not been freezing, the temperature not being helped by the wind chill, I would have evaluated the needles better and possibly, even probably, passed.
But maybe not. Should I tell you that the minute I saw this tree it called to me? It said, I am your tree. Should I tell you I thought it might be too narrow of a tree? Should I tell you that we drove to two other lots before driving back to the first tree lot to reclaim this long suffering pine? (Should I tell you that Ben has a lovely understanding of my neurosis when it comes to picking Christmas tree? He is also long suffering.)
On Sunday I was convinced we were going to have to drill holes in the base of the tree or something equally drastic; it was hardly drinking anything. It was going to be dry as kindling come Christmas Day. But despite my doubts about its water imbibing capacity and it's already somewhat brittle bows, I was glad we had chosen this tree. I kept feeling like it was happy to be a Christmas tree, not so that it could be decked out to the nines, but because it could participate in our celebration of the Christ child. And I did. I thanked our tree.
Guess what. It started drinking water. Monday came and something happened, and it's been gently drinking down the warm water I pour into the tree stand twice a day.
So even though it's leaning a little westward at the moment, both the tree and I are glad it's here.
How lovely are your branches, my little Christmas tree.