To Everything There is a Season

Ecclesiastes the prophet wrote, “To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven… a time to break down, and a time to build up;” I finally started the break down after the Christmas season. Mid-December, I began the chore of putting up the Christmas tree with lights, garland, and ornaments I’d collected over the decades. Finishing this job was spurred by the knowledge my children and grandchildren would want to see the tree, gather around it, and open gifts.

The chore of decorating is far behind me and it was finally time to start the Herculean task of removing the splendiferous baubles from the artificial evergreen tree and store those decorations away until next year. First task was to search among the branches, find, and remove each and every ornament from their hiding places: bells, balls, and beasts hanging in wild and scattered confusion. There was neither rhyme nor reason for their placement other than to cover a bare spot in the foliage. Hearts, heirlooms, and handmade ornaments alternate their placement with stars, seraphim, and soldiers. As I removed them it sometimes caused me to wonder how I reached those spots in the first place. Cones, cartoon characters, and various types of crèches clung to the dark green branches. Yarn and felt creatures gathered in herds as Popsicle stick creations fenced them in. Some handmade ornaments were bought while some were gifts, but all were created with love and all have meaning to me.

The white sparkling garland was the next that be removed. I unwound it from the branches where its loops festooned the tree throughout the holiday season. The dark green wiring for the miniature white lights were removed next. They were difficult to discern from the needled branches. Carefully, I rewound them to prevent tangles. Finally, I removed the star. It’s clear plastic and red trimmed. The five-pointed star is like the one that graced my parent’s tree when I was a child.

Standing back, the once bright addition to my living room now seemed lifeless. All that is left for me to do is pull apart the limbs. This artificial tree has served our family for over 25 years. I think it’s strange that when I fitted the branches together the color seemed brighter. It held promises of hope and joy for the Christmas season. But now its color seemed much more drab, dull, and almost forlorn.

Slowly, I pulled it limb from limb and tied them into neat bundles. I stored into their coffin sized plastic tub and dragged them upstairs. There they will remain until next year when I will resurrect it, add the ornaments, and it will begin another year’s Christmas life cycle.