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Entitled: Christmas Tree By: Josh Kemp '98Christmas was just around the corner. There wer’t any decorations at all to be seen around the house. Mom always put it off til the last minute. She says “It will stay fresh longerâ€. I knew she was probably right. I really didn’t care. All I wanted was some Christmas spirit to shine throught our house. Naturall I decided that I would do my mother a favor by decorating a tree so she wouldn’t have to. Kind of like a favor that I would’t ask to be paid back. One evening, before it got dark out, I bundled up tightly and headed out to the garage. I knew that Mom was at work for a few hours giving me enough time to accomplish this mission that I had planned. First thing I had to do would be to get a tree saw. I knew that I had been told not to play with the tools in the garage, but I wasn’t playing. I had serious work to do. To lower my chances of getting in trouble I chose the smaller one of the two saws to get my job done. I then headed out over our seventeen acres of private property. We had orchards with apples, pears, and even plums. We even had a pasture with horses grazing over the almost non existing grass. More than 75% of the land was covered densly with trees, so I had plenty to choose from. To a thirteen yoer old without much taste or style, any tree would have been good enough, so naturally, witrhout thinking twice, a chose the first one that I had stumbled apon. literally I had walked smack into it and decided to cut it down and drag it back to the house. While dragging it up the hill, all I could think about was the twinkling of lights and ornaments that would light a dark room. Making sure to shake it off carefully as to not get the dead needles strewn across the house and make more of a mess than what was necessary. After putting it in the stand, I brought it into the house and put it on the end table next to the couch. First thing I had to do was to put on the lights, making sure they all worked before hand. Replacing the burnt out bulbs and carelessly laying them onto the tree, I put the tinsel on just as effortless, shimmering with color from the lights. I then put on the ornaments themselves after unpacking them from their own personnel boxes in which they were placed the year before. I was extra careful as to not break any so I wouldn’t get in any trouble. My favorite ones ended up on the front of the tree so everyone could see. These were the ones that I had made myself at school throughout the years. Finally the last touch was to put the topper, perched high above the rest with dignity on the top of the tree. I had personally withoput the help of anyone put up our Christmas tree and decorated it with the best of a thirteen year olds ability. Something wasn’t quite right. After looking over the situation, I had realized that the rest of the house needed a little something extra. I took the remaining lights and tinsel and placed them over door ways and windows with the extra colored glass balls hanging from the low spots. I placed candles and figurines onto tables and sills without thinking at how mother would do it. I was proud to be able to say that I did it all by myself. The day went by and I waited for my mothers return so I could shown her what I did for her while she had been away. With all the excitement I had inside me I soon found myself worrying about what her reaction would be. I then realized that I could get into alot of trouble since I had done all of this without any permission to do so. I could now only hope that she would like what I had done for her and not get upset with me. She always did have her own particular way of doing things, like most mothers do, especially when it came to decorating. All I knew is that I had found myself head deep into something that I didn’t properly think out as to what the concequences would be. I was just trying to help and make her feel good and hopefully she would see it the same way. Soon later I heard tyhe crunch of gravel beneath the tire of a car. The distinct humm of her car was not far behind, then the final flash of light through the window from the headlights. I knew she was home and surely saw the flikering of lights through the curtain. I would soon feel the full blow of my judgement. In a panic I ran into my room as the doorknob was turned and she came into the house. I listened for her voice and heard her say, “who did all of this?†I could sense the smile on her face which drew me from my room only to reply with confidence, “I did!†Her exhausted body was pleased t see that there was a big weight lifted from it. She then gave me a great big hug and a kiss. I had been worried for nothing. I look back at that ugly, Charlie Brown Christmas tree, sparcely covered with branches, with its bunched up lights and gaudy silver tinsel thrown about. Ornaments pulling it down towards the floor. She didn’t like it. Neither do I. It definately wouldn’t have won any awards, but thats not what made her happy. That one little thought that made me do it in the first place is what she saw. The thought of me wanting to do something special for her. To make her happy. It surely didn’t matter to her how the tree looked. If it did, I’d be dead. What did matter was the time, effort and nerve of me cutting down a tree, decorating it and the house, all to please and suprise my mother by having the perfect Christmas, working together as a family, Striving for the same purpose, happiness.
