I put my Christmas tree up last week…on November 1st, to be exact.
My Christmas impulses subject me to discovering the spectrum of stances people have for the holidays. I’ve heard it all, and regardless, I will continue to listen to Christmas music in July and bargain with my husband over putting my tree up earlier than last year. I actually have learned to enjoy the finger wags from traditionalists and the head shakes from Christmas atheists* when they first gaze upon my tree two whole months before Christmas day.
*Aka, my sister-in-law** whose only Christmas decoration is a Charlie Brown Christmas tree.
**I love you, Sam.
The next statement to follow is often holiday related, whether it be how and when they will decorate or a discussion of upcoming plans. And just like that, my little tree that glows and sparkles quietly in the corner of my living room has given breath to the spirit of the holiday season.
From that barely recognizable burst of life, the joy of the season grows, filling the air until suddenly we’ve reach Christmas and it’s everywhere around us.
Then as silently as it came, it’s gone, an echo ringing with the final chime of the New Year.
It isn’t called the holiday season because anyone is trying to rush through one holiday for the next….at least, not for me. Once upon a time the phrase ‘Happy holidays’ wasn’t a personal stance, but rather an all-inclusive Happy-Thanksgiving-Merry-Christmas-Happy-New-Year!
My tree reminds me that the holidays are upon us. The months of November, December, and January are when I revel in the beauty of the entire season, Christmas happening to be the one the majority of my decorations are geared towards. Still with each glowing light on the tree and every burst of red throughout the house, I find myself thankful, my heart warmed, and my year blessed.