A Christmas Story
I sat her down and told her that there wasn't going to be a big tree this year. That we decided not to spend the money on a big tree, and to instead put it towards nice gifts.
The tears started to well up in her eyes.
I stumbled for more justification. That it was so late in the season for a big tree. That live trees smelled beautiful. That we we loved the Charlie Brown tree we had last year. That a live tree is nice for the earth. That we could plant it at Grandma's house again and watch it grow every year and one day it would be a big tree.
Still, she was crushed.
Earlier this week Nate came home with a tree. A live one in a pot, as described, no bigger than Thalia not counting the pot. It was a about one-twentieth the size of the one Thalia had fallen in love with at her cousin's house last week. He set it on the ground and tentatively pulled off the blue plastic bag that sat over top. I felt my teeth clench and my shoulders tighten. We turned towards Thalia.
Thalia scurried towards the tree, eyes wide, arms open.
She hugged it.
"A big tree, daddy! You got the big tree! Ohhhh.... I love it. Thank you!" she gushed. "Oh thank you, I love it!"
And she did.
That right there? That's Christmas.
Merry and happy to you and yours.