I have my very own little Christmas Tree! Yesterday, my son and his partner went Christmas shopping and came back with more than I could have imagined. Because I knew that they were squirrelling Midwinter treats and surprises away after their trip to town, I didn’t realise just how furtive they were being until after dinner when they both vanished back into the dining room. A short while later, my son came huffing and puffing into the living room declaring that something odd was going on upstairs and that I had better go and check out my office.
Judging by the daft grin on his face, I immediately knew that this wasn’t any serious situation but when I entered the upstairs bedroom which acts as my office and where I do all my writing – oh, joy! – there on my little table in the bay window stood a real live little tree, all decorated with baubles, tinsel and coloured lights! It looked quite magical.
I have been told that every bauble on the tree represents one of us – close friends and family. I suspect that the sparkly fly agaric toadstool might represent my son (who is a medical herbalist and uses such ingredients in his medicinal mixtures). Might the plump little Christmas gonk be me? I am going to need some clues to work out the rest; there is a very handsome ‘Spirit of Christmas’ and two rather charming silver nutcracker soldiers… which might my husband be, I wonder? And who might be the gingerbread house???
My darling little tree has kept me good company all day while I have worked. The mountains all around the valley are white with snow, carols have been playing on the radio, sleet and snow flakes have periodically come floating past my window and I have been generally filled with the enchantment and excitement of Christmas – or should I say Advent and pre-Christmas?
How very lucky I am! If my Christmas Day was no more festive and enjoyable than today, I should count myself truly blessed.
I very much hope that you are enjoying these magical days of plotting, planning and seasonal preparation too!
When we are children, we talk about Father Christmas. Who is he? A sacred being? A god? A real person? A figment of our fertile imaginations? Contrary to many varying – and sometimes quite outrageous – suggestions, it is most likely that this figure of sacred folk memory has evolved out of an amalgamation of northern deities such as the god, Odin, and the Wild Man of the Boreal Forest of Eastern Europe.
