At Christmas time the crisp clean mountain air beckons me to the forest to make Christmas memories. The great hunt for the perfect Christmas tree alludes me. For our family it is the "kick off" of the holiday season. Smiles and giggles decorate our freshly cut evergreen tree as it becomes the focal point for our Christmas.
At the heart of our holiday traditions, is the adventure of journeying into the woods as a family to cut down our very own Christmas tree. The tradition started years ago for me. As a child, my family also marked the beginning of our holiday with such an outing. My mother loved the smell of Juniper trees.
Now Junipers are not the most shapely trees and ours were of course no different. They are more what you called bushes than trees. But just the same it was more about the memory than the tree. My father being a rather anal man.. and I say that with all the love in my heart... would never schedule in the event of getting the tree but would simply announce that he was going and take some of we seven out in all kinds of circumstances to accomplish this task. We went in blizzards, or at nightfall, and when we didn't have a truck we took our old station wagon. We always seemed to head out in pairs hoping to find the "perfect" Christmas tree. The funny thing was that we would wander for a good hour or more and then always seem to agree upon one that was only a short distance from our vehicle.
Now years later, I realize that there is no such thing as a perfect Christmas tree nor a perfect memory. In fact, the most memorable tree outings always seem to have some sort of strange and wonderful circumstances involved.
Strange and wonderful do not seem to be a likely pair, but for the Weaver family they were most common. On the brink of a holiday season in my late teens, my younger sister Heather and I had received the task of cutting a tree with our then bachelor brother, Cleve. I was excited for this adventure in that we would be taking to the high mountain in search of a Blue Spruce. My mother left the days of Junipers behind for an Artificial tree and we were to cut the tree which would be showcased in the window of our little red brick home on 2nd East.
The snow was deep as we drove the beautiful mountain road near our home town. Engulfed by the beauty, I was unaware of the road conditions nor the look of worry on my brother's face. My younger sister seemed to be bowing her head in endless prayer. I however, was oblivious until his truck came to a halt as it slipped off the road into a massive snow bank. We were stuck. I still was not worried. I was with my older brother and he had taken care of me my whole life. I knew that this situation was no different. What I didn't know was that the road we were on was closed and showed signs that a snow plow had been on this road no to long ago. To make matters worse.. my brother neglected to put a shovel in the back of his truck.
He attempted to dig his way out using the massive frame of his body and my sister just kept a praying. As the moments passed, my brother's face began to show worry and my little sis became even more silent. I however, was optimistic and felt an enormous sense of protection.
Thankfully, for some unknown "reason" the snowplow driver felt he needed to pass our way just one more time. We didn't walk a way with a tree that night, but I walked a way with an impression that has never left me. Jesus Christ, like my earthly older brother is always there for me as my protector, friend, and comforter. As I called upon my Heavenly Father as my sister did on that snow drift day, my prayers will be heard as I put my faith in Jesus Christ.
Rigby and I have been cutting trees together for 18 years. And much like my childhood days each has a great memory to savor. This year we headed up to Yankee Reservoir. My brother Michael and his two children joined us for this adventure. We were happy that snow was present as it had not fallen in great abundance, yet. Outfitted in warm snow gear, we had stopped at a few spots but were unimpressed with our pickings and found that the low level of snow beckoned many tree hunters. Rigby took us to one last spot. The cousins giggled, threw snow balls, made angels, and enjoyed this adventure. I again was overcome by the beauty.
Rigby soon disappeared and my brother and I navigated the mountain with our brood of 7. We were determined to find "the tree." We even had a few picked out for Rigby's inspection. Unfortunately, he had the saw. That is when I heard the whistle- his whistle. So leaving the kids with my brother,
On the way home, I missed being with my dad in our old blue Ford with Christmas music crackling on the misfit radio. He always wore the same hat. For old time sake, and to please me Rigby turned the volume up just a little and gave me a wink!
Happy Holidays! We at barnwood and tulips hoped you enjoyed our family gallery of Christmas trees!
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