Naked Tree
I wasn’t being a Grinch when I decided not to put up a Christmas tree, I was being practical. Now that my boys are grown and living away, a tree seemed a bit silly. There were no little ones to ooh-and-ah as each ornament was unwrapped, no hands clapping as the lights went on. But I had miscalculated. When my husband and I returned from a weekend away, we were greeted with the smell of pine and one very big, very NAKED TREE in the corner of the living room courtesy of my strapping sons.
I had forgotten that Christmas wasn’t just mine, it was also my family’s. My sons weren’t ready to let go of the stockings and cookies and especially the tree. They had grown into men who still had boy ’s hearts. They weren’t about to let me get away without celebrating the season by decorating our home. Since they’d gone to so much trouble, the least I could do was oblige.
As I strung the lights and unwarapped the ornaments, I thought this was just a little bit like writing a book. Sometimes you need someone to remind you that magic isn’t practical but it is always possible. The next time I am uninspired as a writer, I will remember this Christmas lesson. Motivation, expectations and love of the process can turn a NAKED TREE – or blank page – into something precious. I will remember that the story isn’t just mine, it belongs to the people who read it. I will remember that there are those who think I have magic at my fingertips. I will remember that a blank canvas can only lead to bigger and better things.
Merry Christmas. Happy Holidays. Here’s to the New Year and the pages we will decorate with our words and make sparkle with with our imagination. Make them as bright as Christmas lights and as shiny as glass balls that turn a NAKED TREE into magical one.
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