Why I love my Christmas tree
The light and warmth it exudes.
The old and ancient bulbs, passed on from
a second cousin whose mother died at 100, several years ago,
used these bulbs on
her tree while growing up.
They connect me to family I didn’t know that well
when I was younger, yet are part of me. So I place them gingerly, these tender
treasures. Their sole purpose to light up my face once a year. Or someone else’s.
They sparkle along with the million or
so lights I pour throughout her branches.
She drinks nectar and shines.
She becomes something bigger than all her parts put together.
She brings more to me than all I place on her.
Bounty beyond.
I truly love her presence in our home.
Maybe she feels this and responds.
Maybe she opens a doorway to
places tucked away inside
and it takes the lights,
sparkle and old ornaments
to open to the quiet beauty only she has
a key to.
Her beauty reaches
me. Reminds me. And I
respond.
Mary
No comments:
Post a Comment