Tonight Earl and I finished decorating our Christmas tree. Over the years we have gravitated to an artificial tree rather than a real one. In that time, I’ve come to love artificial, although for the first fifty-five years of my life I wouldn’t have dreamed of such a thing.
Artificial represents convenience, but it also represents extended enjoyment. You can decorate your tree earlier because there is no concern about fire hazard or watering. One year we put our tree up at the beginning of November. You can take it down on your own schedule too. There is no concern about dropping needles or drooping branches. Both your wallet and your carpeting don’t take a beating either.
About the only thing I miss is that an artificial tree doesn’t smell as good as a real one, especially one cut down just yesterday. But if we want the scent of fresh evergreens, we can purchase boughs at the local supermarket to hang on our front door or in our hallway.
So I guess convenience wins over tradition. Easy wins over more work. And contemporary beats memory. In the end, the gifts underneath the tree don’t care and most of the revelers don’t either. So I’ve given up being a purist in regard to Christmas trees. Amen.
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