Traditionally the Saturday after Thanksgiving is the day my family ventures off to cut down a Christmas tree. So... yesterday was the day! We packed the family up with our $3 dollar off coupon and away we went. I had visions in my head of what a wonderful experience this would be- family time, memories, traditions, hot cider and santa! 20 minutes into the trip, we were lost, in the middle of the country. Good thing for the iphone google maps application. I guess. We eventually found our way into the Hampton Hills tree farm, grabbed our saw, and drove out to the balsam portion of the farm. We piled out of the truck, Doug, Owen, Gracie, myself and Murphy, our naughty little dog. I had our camera in hand ready to capture the 'moment'. A few steps into the field, our boots became caked with mud- Murphy's paws were black, and he became tangled in some prickly vine like thing. We walked for what seemed like a mile, and found nothing but Charlie Brown looking trees. Gracie (you'll start to sense a theme here...) starts to scream that she's tired and wants to be carried. Tears start flowing, and after what seemed to me like a complete meltdown, we found ourself in the pre-cut section of the farm. Picked out a BEAUTIFUL, tall 11 foot or so frasier. Tied it to the top of the truck, and away we went.
Not exactly how I had pictured 'the moment'. In the end, we got our tree, and I have to say it is the most beautiful tree we've ever had! I'm laughing now, but at the time I was disappointed. Often in life I have expectations of how something should look/feel/be. I get caught up in these expectations and find myself disappointed when things don't go according to MY plan. This experience reminds me that real life doesn't follow my script, and I'm NOT the director! I should simply enjoy the moment. Even if it is in the middle of a muddy field with a screaming 4 year old refusing to walk any further!
Wishing you MEMORIES, whether they be funny, madening, or heart-warming in your Christmas traditions.
I can completely relate to your Christmas story. One Christmas Eve when I was 9 my sister got sick with the flu. We would traditionally sing Christmas carols, eat dinner and then open gifts. We would choose our "spots" on the couch in which to sit, and then my sister and I would start passing out the gifts. We would go around in a circle, each opening one gift at a time until we were finished. Well into the first round of opening, my sister exclaimed that she wasn't feeling well. She proceeded to get sick all over the living room, right before I was to open my first gift! Ugh, I guess that's what little sisters are for- to rain on my parade! My mom took care of her and said we would have to wait until the morning to open any more gifts. I told my mom that she had ruined Christmas and that I wish I never had a sister. Wrong thing to say! Boy, was I reprimanded for that! Today, I realize the true importance of Christmas; spending quality time with family and friends and cherishing the greatest gift of all- Jesus' birth!
ReplyDeleteGlad to hear your story ended up with a happy ending!!