O Christmas Tree

Picture this seven or eight years ago: It is night time. Dave and I drive up to the side of property owned by BYU right on University Avenue (very conspicuous). The property is protected by tall fences and locked gates. I'm feeling a little nervous and getting butterflies. Dave hops out of the car, jumps the fence, and takes off down some hills to find a pile of Christmas trees. These trees used to be decorating BYU but as soon as the students went home for the holidays, they came down and are now in a pile waiting to be chopped up into compost and it isn't even Christmas yet.

I'm waiting. I'm waiting. Where is David? Are there any cops around? Suddenly a tree flies up over the fence and David scrambles over. The butterflies burst out of my stomach into laughter. I jump out of the car and we try to stuff the tree in our trunk (it hangs out by several feet) as fast as we can and drive home. We decorate the beautiful, tall, free (probably worth at least $50) tree and enjoy it for Christmas. Later, on a different night after the holidays, David chucks the tree back over the fence and hauls it back to where he found it in the first place.

We would have "borrowed" a tree from BYU's compost pile every year if we could have but BYU went artificial. The next year, David searched the premise for abandoned trees but found none. We were poor and young (as opposed to now, poor and not as young) and decided to forgo the tree thing. But as Christmas drew near, I couldn't stand it and on Christmas Eve we went out and bought a tree on sale for ten bucks at the grocery store.

We still haven't converted to artificial and each year we seek a real tree. Last year was its own adventure because we let Ray-Ray pick out the tree. We found a place where they only cost $25 for any of them. I started to explain to Ray that he should find one that is tall and doesn't have bare spots and isn't ugly or anything. What does he do? He picks out the saddest one of all and that's the tree he wants. I try to convince him that he should look at some of the others. The more I tell him that his tree isn't the best one, the more he feels sad for his tree and knows that if we don't buy it, no one will. The very thought bursts his heart and he starts bawling. Not just a little. Okay, Okay! We get the tree and he sobs the whole way home still thinking about what could have been his tree's fate.

About 3 weeks later, I take all the Christmas decorations off his tree and pull it out to the curb, leaving a heavy trail of pine needles behind me. Ray sees his tree on the curb and the sobs and fits that we endured earlier resume. He can't bear to see it on the curb to be picked up by the garbage truck. I put my foot down. We can't keep the tree. It is dead and needs to go back to the earth.

This year, we went out to the same place as last year but the trees cost $35 now. We let little D pick out the tree. Ray instructs him to pick out the saddest most unloved tree there but I say no. I tell them that they need to pick out a tree that has a tall point because I just bought a star to go on top. We've never had one of those. Luckily, finding a tree with the best point becomes the determining factor rather than the scraggliest and we got a beauty this year.


Ray and little D agreed on the tree.


Lou likes Christmas trees a lot.


Men are good at this sort of thing.



And boys want to be like their dads.


After the tree was secure, we went to eat at Stan's. This is our tradition that we carry on from David's youth.


Halibut, burgers and scones.


At home, the kids really got into decorating. This was a first. Usually the whole job is left up to me. I like it better with the kids' help.



They decorated the whole tree after I put the lights on.


And then they decorated themselves.



Lou put on our first star.


And then we turned out the lights and ooohhed and aaahhed.






(picture of tree found at www.ehow.com/how_2148977_choose-right-christmas-tree.html)