Raven and Sparrow

The nativity scene

I have been hugely enjoying the comments on my last post about trimming the Christmas tree! Thank you so much! Your responses have been a real bright spot in our restricted, quarantined season. In the midst of this on-line camaraderie I was surprised to receive a comment from a stranger on a similar post I made in 2011. (Wha???) It was our first year in our new house and we had a ten foot Christmas tree (never again, that thing weighed a ton) to celebrate the high ceiling in our living room. I also went around and documented a few other decorations that had been in storage for seven years and were newly on display again, including this cardboard nativity scene from Mike's family. Still stored in its original box, it is made of flat printed pieces that get held upright by fold-up tabs in the cardboard base. The hole in the stable ceiling was meant for one of those old, large Christmas tree lights that I don't think the structure could support anyway. The star on top has fallen apart and is now only made viable by propping the fragments of its former structure behind it. Apparently my commenter had an identical nativity scene in his childhood and ferreted out my image through Google...(again, Wha???)  He noted the probable fire hazard of sticking one of those old lights into a paper decoration and we agreed that the position of the "colored wise man" (so described on the appropriate tab) outside with the camels was a good example of the generally unnoticed racism of the fifties. To be fair, the kneeling wise man also has dark skin, and the designers of this scene could have used only white people with no one being the wiser (ha ha), but still, in these fraught times the apparent political incorrectness is glaring. It is a reminder of the ways ideas change, often for the better. Having someone reach out of the ether to engage gently on this bit of nostalgia reminds me also of how closely connected we are. Merry Christmas to everyone on the internet.

Trimming the tree

Its funny how small decisions made without much thought can create continuing patterns as life goes on. Every year I am reminded of this when I trim our Christmas tree. In our first year of marriage Mike and I got a tiny tree for our apartment and went in search of cheap ornaments at our local chain store  We immediately disagreed about colors. Mike wanted multicolored lights and multicolored ornaments. I was influenced by the then new trend in white lights and wanted a more subdued color scheme. Our compromise was no white and no multi colors....we went with all red. We bought red lights and plain red ball ornaments and that was it. We still have that same color scheme after all these years. The lights have been replaced over time, but the ornaments are still in their original boxes, much the worse for forty eight years of wear.

Although our first tree was extremely simple that didn't last too long. Every year we accumulated decorations. All kinds of birds, animals, santas, etc. joined the red balls, and the increase really picked up speed when we had children. I was always on the lookout for new ornaments to amuse them, and of course we had the deluge of handcrafted objet d'arte from school. I also tried additional trimmings like bead garlands and dried flowers. In the eighties dried baby's breath was everywhere and I still think you can't beat it for pulling a tree together, but it only lasts a year or two and it is not so easy to find now that it is out of fashion.

Our last big influx of ornaments came in the nineties when Mike's dad gave up his house and moved into assisted living. He had no interest in Christmas decorations so we got all the old things from the forties and fifties that Mike had grown up with, also still in their original boxes. The scotch tape holding them together is older than we are. My family had many of the exact same ones (my parents are still using theirs) so it was very nostalgic for both of us to add these childhood memories to our tree. 

There were other "specials" that collected one by one...engraved silver and pewter ornaments to commemorate important occasions, blown glass from Venice, and a few more modest bits that carry history and memories. The little bird in the middle box is completely ordinary, but has gained pride of place at the very top of every tree, often mirroring the birds sitting on branches outside the windows. The golden pine cone/hand grenade came from my mother's childhood. Her family used to spend Christmas at a resort they ran in the Mojave Desert a couple canyons over from Death Valley. One year they went back to town leaving their Christmas tree for their caretaker to dismantle. He was a grizzled old miner without much appreciation for ornamentation, so instead of taking off and storing the ornaments he just threw the tree fully decorated into a gully behind the house. The golden pine cone is the only survivor according to my mother, so it has been officially designated as a family treasure.

All these years later our tree is a combination of that original red decision, and all the accretions that have followed. I still use the reds to anchor the color scheme, but welcome the variations that I think add interest and history to our tree. It is above all a family tree more than an artistic statement. 

In these anxious times it is comforting to return to this symbol of home and holiday. The days are very short here in the Northwest as the solstice approaches and the glow of the red tree keeps the darkness at bay. I hope your holidays will be filled with the warmth of tree lights and the smell of evergreens as we all await the return of the sun.