At this time of the year, I miss the past of Christmas, years ago I was a kid–and continued to miss them throughout most of my life. The excitement was so great that expectations increased from day to day as Christmas approached. The party to attend, the presents to look forward to, and the holiday mood were exciting. I heard a Christmas carol and sang everywhere I went. I also sang myself. The music that I performed with the song seemed to cheer up everyone and seemed to have caused the transition from the day after Thanksgiving to the holiday season. I especially miss the old days of Christmas in the country-when I was young. Christmas meant Christmas tree every year. In this country, you don’t go to the lottery to buy a dry, sometimes terrible, and prohibitively expensive Christmas tree. Instead, in rural areas, pack the recently sharpened a and head to the nearest forest, where you will find the best fir tree and harvest it.
Tree felling is an exciting time for children. I remember vividly finding the perfect tree to take home with sentimental pinning, my brother Fred, and a forest adventure. In most cases we looked for that tree for a year or two before actually cutting it for Christmas-find it on the farm in Belfast, Maine during the warm summer months It was.
During the summer tree scouting expedition, we definitely stopped at Artesian Spring, which was as clear as bubbles. Summer afternoon. Refreshed, we proceeded to the future Christmas tree, or perhaps multiple trees of different heights. We monitored its growth until it reached the right height for the living room.
A few weeks before Christmas, if I decided that it was the best, I traveled across a normal snowfield from a warm farmhouse, usually on a cold Sunday afternoon (that year it always seemed snowing) In the forest we put it down, tied it to the sled of the flexible flyer and slid it all the way to the back porch. Therefore, they were trimmed as needed and moved ritually into the living room. The Christmas decorations taken out of the second-floor bedroom closet were already in place. In January, when we reluctantly dropped the previous year’s tree (most often on New Year’s Day), we were saddened Was placed there.
The rest of the afternoon decorated the prize tree, looped bright blue, green and red lighting, wrapped a garland around it, and hung a fragile glass ornament of all colors and shapes. Home effect. Just a few hours before growing in a thick forest, the tree gradually changed from its natural and natural form to a cozy living room that was very Christmasy and fragrant.
The final finish, Pie de Recitance, was an angel in a small, white garment with silver glittery silk wings that was placed on top of a tree. Our mother died when I was 4 years old. I always imagined an angel spending Christmas with a boy, sitting on a tree, laughing, and her concentrated eyes watching us. I maintained that visualization from the age of 5 to the main Christmas of 1962 (17 years).
Having her on our tree at Christmas every year has given me unlimited comfort, sensation, and happiness. I always looked up on Christmas morning before opening presents. And she always smiled at me and ensured that I was not alone in life. Christmas was so encouraging to see an angel on my head.
Trees freshly cut from the forest always smell very good, look like Christmas, and seem to be infinitely more satisfying than those purchased for many trees in the city. Anyway, I always did it for me. I always felt sorry for the children in the city who had never experienced this directly.
And the 2015 Christmas and the 71 Christmas I lived in are still the most enjoyable time for me. It was always! Oh, I’m more troublesome than ever to get that Christmas spirit feeling, buy that Christmas tree, place it, decorate it, and get water every day. I always had from 6 to 7 footers, but now I’m doing 4 to 5 foot trees.
If you haven’t achieved a satisfactory level of Christmas spirit, there is one gimmick that seems to always work. My morale booster if needed: I