O Christmas tree!

Many think and believe that we should thank the Germans for our practice of the Christmas tree. I, for me, have no problems saying, “Thank you.” In particular, they say we should thank Martin Luther, the great Protestant reformer who brought the church back to a rightful emphasis on “grace” rather than “performance” within the life of the faithful.

They say Luther took an evening stroll through the woods and, struck by the beauty of the moonlight shining on the fir trees, he went home determined to recreate the moment for his children. He brought a fir tree into the house and decorated it with candles. And so, the legend of the first decorated Christmas tree was born. That was about 1510, five centuries ago.

Now, think a moment: for at least 500 Christmases, we have been erecting our Christmas trees in our homes and putting lights on them. My life thus far encompasses about one-tenth of the tradition. Should I stop? Bet your Santa boots I won’t quit. Any tradition that old and beautiful and meaningful, I am going to keep it going.

One of my most memorable life episodes is about a Christmas tree. Mama, Daddy and I had gone to Milledgeville to pick up my sister from nursing in-service training at the state mental hospital. By the time we got home, it was dark. As we drove in the driveway, the first thing I noticed was lights in the window. My two youngest sisters had walked to Baker Village and bought one string of colored lights. And, oh, did they brighten our Christmas. Until then, our Christmas Tree went dark at night. A tree. A string of lights. And how they brightened my heart. Thank you Brenda and Nancy for my first lighted tree.

Was it not a big light that proclaimed the birth of the author of Christmas? Lights are so called for.

So, go get your lights and string them up. Get them out of storage or out of the attic, but let them proclaim that somebody was born that can brighten all the misery out of our lives.

Once I thought it was a bit ridiculous when someone told me they had a Christmas Tree in every room of their house. I thought it was a little over board. Aging and marinating in a Godless culture has changed my mind.

Last week I stopped and thanked a local resident for filling her yard with all kinds of lighted plastic. Some may say it tends toward the gaudy. I agree with the quote, “It is more blessed to light a candle, than curse the darkness.”