A Sweet, Sad Tree

I stare at my tree. It’s not a real tree. It’s artificial. It’s not super tall. It’s not super wide. But it’s super full of memories…memories in knick-knack form hanging from a hook next to the remaining candy canes and two humble strands of lights. My tree would not win any decor awards (are there even awards for trees? probably…I actually have no idea), but I’m not going for any anyway. What it does do, though, is worth more than any awards could give. I can look at any given ornament and remember.

Years of good. Years of bad. Years of growth. Years in Oklahoma. Years in Colorado. Years in Missouri. Years in Oklahoma again. And now a year in Montana.

And soon the fullness of my tree will start to shed a little as one by one my girls start their own lives and pack away the memories of our tree that belong to them. My heart already aches at the thought of it

And so I’ll treasure this tree and it’s bursting branches for as many more years as I’m able. And I’ll thank God for the memories it holds both now and for the saplings that will form in the future.


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