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Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Christmas Tree (10/09/08)
I remember one Christmas tree vividly. Fluffy snow had settled down around our English Tudor style home which rested atop a hill in a deep woods. The family room fireplace crackled and popped as we three little girls bounded out to the entry foyer to get dressed to go outside. I and my two sisters stepped out on to the crunchy snow running toward daddy who waited, holding the flexible flyer sled.

“Everybody pile on” daddy said as he held the sled at the top of the driveway hill. We shuffled on with mommy. “Hold on tight!” daddy yelled as he gave us a big push.

Down the hill we flew. The sled whizzed down, carrying us across the marshes and a little ways up the next hill. Even though it was night the landscape glowed white and we could see the pines that stood motionless, their green boughs weighed down with snow.

As we chose our special tree I marveled as daddy told us he planted these trees years ago. I pulled down a branch heavy with snow then released it; the branch sprang up, spraying snow everywhere. As we children threw snowballs and played, daddy cut the Christmas tree. Soon the sweet smell of pine mingled with the frosty air.

Daddy took the tree by the base and began dragging it back up the driveway as mommy pulled us kids on the sled. Soon we romped into the front entryway. We worked our boots off, shrugged off our coats, and walked into the family room where daddy bent down securing the tree in that metal Christmas tree stand.

Soon mommy came out from the kitchen with cups of hot-mulled cider. Someone put on a Christmas record and we kids danced around to “God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen” as daddy pulled out strands of lights and tested them. I tiptoed over a cardboard box, opening it I reached inside; the scent of cold attic greeted my nose as I pulled out ornaments and placed them on the tree. Soon the branches hung full of ornaments and lights, mommy was placing the star on the top and the music changed to “Oh Christmas Tree”.

As we sat under our Christmas tree ready to open gifts that Christmas morning, mommy and daddy opened the Bible and read to us the familiar about the baby Jesus.

Like our Christmas tree my father planted many years ago, Jesus grew up a seedling, a shoot from the line of Jessie. His name was Jesus. Jesus grew in wisdom and stature and in favor with God and man, and at just the right time God the father lifted him up, as a payment for the sin of mankind. Instead of tinsel and lights, his body bore scars from beating, and holes where the nails pierced his skin. But through his faithfulness, he made available to us the best gift of all, eternal life.
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Member Comments
Member
Date
Marlene Austin
10/18/08
Nice personal narrative and devotional in one. Good job tying in the "growth" of Jesus and His purpose in His sacrifice. :)
Dee Yoder
10/21/08
As soon as I read the line about the cold air from the attic, I could smell that scent, too! These wonderful memories of happy times with our families are what these traditions are all about--so much love and comfort wrapped in the simple things we do to celebrate the Savior's birth.