As with so many things about me, I place the blame squarely with my mother. Every year the ritual of decorating the Christmas tree with what seemed like thousands of ornaments was one of my favourite parts of Christmas. My mother had literally scads of ornaments, ranging from gorgeous Austrian glass to the marker-decorated plastic ornament my sister had made in pre-school. When I was younger Mom was the only one allowed to put any ornaments on the tree. The tree itself was artificial. Not artificial like we have these days; there was absolutely nothing realistic about this tree. It featured large white-flocked branches that stuck into a broomstick-like trunk. It had a revolving stand--musical, of course. The main advantage of the tree was that it had lots of space to show off the ornaments. My sister despised it; there are times when I still miss it.
I loved the day all the boxes came out of the garage, almost as much as Christmas day itself! Dad was in charge of the lights; once he had strung them on the branches, Mom got to work. She instructed me on the important specifics of decorating: small ornaments at the top, the larger ones nestled deep inside the tree. Once she had finished placing the ornaments she would take out the bead chains for the finshing touch. The beads were all different and I loved to lay out them out on their newspaper wrapping and hand them to her. When our tree was finished, I would stare at it for hours, mesmerized by the turning lights and sparkling ornaments. In our old house, my room was just off where we put the tree and when I left my door open a crack, I could see the rainbow of coloured lights rotating like a prism across my ceiling. I would fall asleep looking at them.
When I left home I begged my mother for my favourite ornament, an Austrian ball of a dancing angel. She reluctantly parted with it (we used to say that Mom would be buried with her ornaments. That would be one huge box to put in the ground!)and it became my first Christmas tradition. My angel is always the first ornament I put on the tree and she holds the highest position. If you look at the second of my pictures, you can see her. That year I bought my first-ever real tree...and discovered my allergy to pine needles. I endured it for years, until Grant convinced me to buy a realistic-looking artificial tree.
As the years have gone by, I collected more and more ornaments. Initially, I used some castaways plain balls that my mother allowed me to take, while adding anywhere from 5-15 ornaments a year. In the early days, I used tinsel or garlands to finish off the tree, but one year Macy's had a huge selection of beads on sale and I was finally able to trim the tree in what I though of as the traditional way. Each year I buy at least one new ornament, usually to commemorate our travels. My collections is just like my mother's-- eclectic, spanning German and Polish blown glass balls and figures to most of the Hallmark Star Trek collection. It is only in recent years I have stopped putting every single ornament on the tree--quite frankly, I get too exhausted by the end of my decorating to even think about it!
When I moved to Canada, I refused to allow the moving company to ship my special box of ornaments. Instead, they accompanied me on the airplane--triple boxed and cushioned. They are the heart of Christmas to me. And every year, I think I have the prettiest tree of all!
