Tuesday, December 12, 2006

Dearest God,

The last sun rays of the day spread across the cloud-filled sky as my granddaughter and I raced to the Whispering Pines Christmas Tree Farm. I had gotten delayed at the office so the minutes were ticking by when I picked up my six-year-old Gabrielle. We had just clicked on our seat belts when the sound of music rose in the car. "Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la, la la la la." When that little girl and I get together, we always sing. If I fail to start it, she lifts her voice in song.

It was dusk when we arrived. We picked up a saw and grabbed a tree carrier. "Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere..." We kept on singing as we checked out the trees. "What about this one, Grandma?" Gabrielle asked between songs. "Looks like a Charlie Brown tree to me." I told her. "What's a Charlie Brown tree?" She asked me. "That's one with brown branches or it leans with a crooked center, or it's just a sad tree." I answered. We sang our way through the trees, mostly finding "Charlie" trees.

When we did find a tree, we marked it with a plant stalk, then another, and finally a third. With the sun rising in China, it was beginning to get dark. Gabrielle wanted to keep looking. I told her it was too dark so we studied the three we had selected. "That's the one, Grandma." Gabrielle assured me. We looked it over, walked around it, then leaned down on the ground, picked up the saw and started cutting, two sets of hands, big ones and little ones. We placed the fresh cut tree on the carrier and started pulling it toward the barn with just enough light to get us there. "O Christmas tree, O Christmas how ever green your branches, O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how ever green your branches..." Gabrielle kept on singing as we walked into the barn.

While the tree man was shaking the tree, ridding it of dead debris, I got my purse out of the car. "Grandma, put on your hat." Gabrielle shouted. "Are you sure?" I asked her. "Yep!" She replied. So I put on my tall purple and white balloon star hat that was made especially for me by a magician at a Christmas party I attended with my husband earlier in the day.

We walked into the gift shop to select a wreath. A few people, including a couple of children stared at my extravagant head covering. Eyes rolled, people swallowed their laughter as Gabrielle was happy holding the hand of a crazy-looking grandmother. We paid the bill, made ourselves some hot chocolate, and climbed into the car, the night sky black by now. The sweet scene of pine filled the car as I drove down the country road and we sang our favorite song again, "Go tell it on the mountain, over the hills and everywhere..."

Wondrous God,
the scents and sounds
of Christmas
are all around.
We create them
and they are created for us.
Your joy spills
out of us
when we sing out
our songs of faith.
Your love is in the air;
I'm breathing it in.
And sharing it
with a very special
little girl,
named after an angel.

Love, Andrea