Sunday, December 1, 2013

The day before Thanksgiving, my sweet wife and I went walking in the woods searching for the perfect Christmas Tree.  The Christmas Tree, in our family tradition, is cut and erected and decorated within a few days of Thanksgiving, and since half of the children and their families were coming for dinner on Thanksgiving, that seemed the perfect time.  Erected is the appropriate word because our tree is always a big one.  We set it up in our atrium which faces the front of the house and is two stories tall.  The tallest tree we could have is 24 feet, but this year we marked 3 prospective candidates in the 21 foot range. Curtis, my son-in-law, and I, with assorted grandchildren tagging along for moral support, chose the one furthest away, but it was downhill clear back to the road.  I fired up the trusty chain saw and in a moment, our tree was lying on the ground. 

            Ordinarily, I wrap the tree with a tarp before hauling out of the woods, but there wasn’t a lot of room and we quite handily carried it down to the road where the 6-wheeler awaited us.  Snow was only about 6” deep and the day was gloriously beautiful.  We wrapped the tree and then, instead of hoisting it on top of the 6-wheeler, elected to drag it along behind.  Towing the tree proved quite easy, and we deposited it outside the front door of the house. 

            After dinner, the time was at hand to bring the tree inside. Wrapped as it was, there were few handholds, and the motive force was provided by Robert, Curtis and I.  We could see that we didn’t have enough oomph to squeeze it through the door, so we asked our wives to help and they pitched in on their way out the door to engage in the other tradition of commercial exchange. 

            I knew we were in trouble because the tree was just stiffer than normal.  Of course it was frozen, but that was usual.  As we pulled it in through the doorway, audible and heart-rending cracks emanated from beneath the tarp as the branches broke instead of bending.  We laid the tree in the atrium and began untying the tarp to reveal many of the largest branches that would normally extend from the trunk in the bottom 6 feet of its length laying forlornly next the tree.  I applied the stand and a rope midway up the trunk and with a cooperative effort, hoisted the tree upright. 

            Its shortcomings were immediately obvious.  The tree in an unbroken state could not be charitably called “full”, and disabled as it was, appeared quite sad.  Branches on one side were easily 3 times longer than on the other, and if it could have walked, it would have done so with a decided limp.  The discussion among all was whether it was better to haul it back out and make another attempt in a few days, or to salvage what we could of the ignoble spruce. 

            I decided to wait a day to make a decision.  There was no big hurry, and maybe the light of day would improve the appearance.  It did not.  Not willing to give up on the homely specimen, however, I got out my trusty drill and bored several holes into the trunk where I could situate the broken limbs and restore a modicum of balance.  I know from previous experience that the “grafted” limbs will not make it ‘til Christmas, but I am willing to replace them as the need arises.  The limbs in the forest that need pruning abound.  Lit and ornamented, the tree is not the most beautiful we have ever had, but it is beautiful, and it teaches a profound lesson.

            Each of us is like the tree.  We have so many faults that our Father In Heaven likely wonders, at times, if it is possible to put us to rights.  But he loves us, broken limbs and all.  And because he does, he has provided a Savior for us, a Master Gardener that has the ability to graft us and shape us and help us to grow to perfection, if we but desire it. As we prepare to celebrate the Christmas season, let us remember our Savior, Jesus Christ, and the price he has paid to see us return to live with our Heavenly Father in eternity.