This morning, before I left the house at 6am, I quickly turned on our Christmas tree lights. I wanted to snap a few pictures of it while the house was dark and, more especially, while there are presents lying underneath.
A lot has changed since I was a kid, but that scene, the presents, the tree, the lights--it's one of my favorite childhood memories.
I grew up in a very large house, not a mansion, but large for my mom and us three kids. My dad designed the house and almost saw it completely built before he died. He wanted a big front room and that's what we had. It's a great room for a Christmas tree and we put it in the same place every year, the southwest corner. We sold the house after my mother passed away. The new owners realized just how perfect that corner is for a Christmas tree--it's where their tree is right now. You can't argue with a great place to put a Christmas tree.
The house where I now live is smaller and we've had our trees over the years in various places. And because the house is smaller, we can't have as many presents under the tree, like we did in my parent's house. I don't remember exactly when the presents started showing up when I was a kid, but by the third week of December, there were just so many--or so it seemed.
I loved just looking at the tree. I suppose that what kids did before the internet. With it dark outside and all the lights turned off except the Christmas lights, I would just sit, put on a Christmas album on the HiFi, look at the tree, and wonder what was in all those boxes.
Yesterday my wife and I wrapped presents and put them under our tree. We've only a few days until the 25th so there'll be fewer chances to kick or knock them around. This morning, as I took the pictures, I remembered those days decades ago when lights, a tree, some holiday music, and the mystery of wrapped presents was enough to completely captivate a young boy. If that's not something special, I don't know what is.
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