Sometimes, I just look out the window and remember, makes me smile. When I was a child growing up in rural Maine, we often cut our own Christmas tree, the kids did, out in the big woods. As kids, we shuffled about among oaks, maples, hemlocks, spruces, and pines until we found something. Sensibly, we did not grab oaks or maples, but something gloriously random.
Today, well beyond Christmas trees, things often seem prepackaged. This is not all bad, just different. Much is non-random, often pre-set, pre-cut, plastically frosted, and one-size-fits-all or tailored to exact preferences we did not know we even had, our choices made by others.
Even when we order things online, we get a drop-down list, options pre-thought for us, in that way also limited, little room for randomness, less for original thought, and zero that you will – for example – pull some unshapely, knobby branches, sticky pinecones, together for a wreath.
Picking out Christmas trees, we often walk among well-pruned varieties, all symmetrical. Wreaths are perfectly circular, collected without any deer sign or mud to kick off your boots, no burs on your pants, and no random trapdoors over well-disguised frozen streams. We had those delights in youth.
More broadly, we get glitter-encrusted and singing cards, aisles filled with dancing Christmas animals, pink, purple, red, blue, and rainbow trees, and lots of stuff that jumps, spins, and flashes.
In my youth, kids made Christmas cards out of construction paper, then cut the same colored paper into strips, turning strips into loops, taping them to each other until we had a long, colorful chain to ring the tree with, lots of randomness, only made more random – by our homemade gifts.
We would spend time sawing wood, bending coat hangers, assembling popsicle sticks, nailing, gluing, sanding, then cheerfully applying polyurethane or paint, often making a random mess, perhaps clipping, snipping, designing and finalizing our priceless wonders, gently putting under the tree – all perfectly imperfect.
Come dinnertime, everyone poured into the house, smells good enough to eat, no microwave or instant anything, instead piles of imperfect culinary perfection, one aunt a master of making hard candy (covered in confectioner’s sugar), another a whiz at making “Needhams” – a Maine specialty, coconut in chocolate, as well as toasted delights, while my mother baked apple and peach pies, peaches one of my sisters threw down to me on the ground, both of us waving away yellowjackets.
Turkey was carved with care, potatoes mashed by hand, gravy doted on – the way French families worry over soufflés. We had lumps in the potatoes, cranberries in our sauce, cream hand whipped, mixed with vanilla over desserts. Sometimes, music was just us singing, or the kids on instruments.
All this is to say, while I love the pre-packaged things when time is short, the perfectly pruned trees, magically symmetrical wreaths, cards that sing, and characters that jump, jiggle, wiggle, and jingle, there is something to be said for imperfection, for a handmade, homemade, let it go, let it snow, keep it simple sort of Christmas. Sometimes, I just look out the window and remember, makes me smile.
Robert Charles is a former Assistant Secretary of State under Colin Powell, former Reagan and Bush 41 White House staffer, attorney, and naval intelligence officer (USNR). He wrote “Narcotics and Terrorism” (2003), “Eagles and Evergreens” (2018), and is National Spokesman for AMAC.
RBC – Amen. Happy Christmas to you and your family.
All that do it yourself, unbeknownst to us, also taught people “how to do things.” I know that sounds crazy, but I watch people just stare at things. It is almost shocking how people don’t know how to just “do” everyday life things. When you grow up “doing things,” you become a confident capable person. It also makes you gain appreciation, for people that do things, for us.
Merry Christmas Mr Charles and blessings to you and yours.
RBC, having begun my 75th orbit of the sun, your column brought back similar good memories. As I read it, I could smell the chicken and pies baking and the pine sap from our tree. We never had a perfect tree, so Dad and I would cut off a branch or two that was in the wrong place. Then we would drill a hole in the trunk where we thought it would look better, stuff the branch into the hole, and wire it to another branch to hold it steady. Mom always approved, and I always was excited to have helped with the process. Then all of us would participate in decorating the tree. Balls and tinsel would wind up in odd places, but it was fun! I’m sorry, but a pre-lit and decorated artificial tree may be convenient, but it holds no memories. The difference between doing something special or just observing what a robot in a factory has done. I think that sometimes, the old ways were better! Merry Christmas to you!
Being creative ,being able to improvise, to be resourceful is something of importance. The story of Christmas , the circumstances pertaining to the birth of Jesus Christ , the necessity for Mary and Joseph to find a place for the birth to take place required resourcefulness , using a manger made good sense for the newborn Jesus since there was no room available at the Inn and conditions needed to be improvised to make conditions as right as possible. Whether it was a barn, a cave or a part of a house where animals were housed does not make a great difference actually – it just describes the situation Joseph and Mary were dealing with and using a manger for a bed made good sense. It indicates that people should think for themselves, use their imagination, be creative, resourceful ,improvise when needed. Your reminiscence of making things at Christmas is good Robert, it is the right way to approach anything at anytime actually. When it is a joyful celebration involving family, friends – then all the more so ! A. ” keep it simple sort of Christmas ” as you wrote. The feeling of accomplishment, of making things is an uplifting experience – good for mind and spirit. The. Joy to the World spirit at Christmas ! Great article Robert .
RBC, another wonderful article, thanks. Have a wonderful weekend. Stay safe.
The first Christmas I remember for ever ,there was a tree and a huge package from the relieve for postwar Europe and in it was also a most beautiful blue coat with shiny buttons and a praline hat that put my head in the vise because it was too small but I loved it so suffered quietly That came from America, into which I came 18 years later. Merry Christmas everyone ,God Bless her.
A nice sentiment of days gone bye. This will be my first Christmas without my wife in 55 years but we will try to enjoy the season and look forward to a promising new year.
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Did not even put up a tree this year. No kids, no grandkids… what’s the point? I’m thinking buying relatives a gift is pointless. Everyone keep their money or buy something for yourself! But its like “Christmas” so I’m “obligated” by the holiday to be a good consumer! Bah humbug. I ride motorcycles so hate snow… when’s spring? That’s when I’ll celebrate the “season”!