I remember when mom bought this artificial house tree years ago. I was in the third grade and we had just moved back into the house that she and I were forced to leave when I was no more than five years old. I thought nothing of the tree at the time, but when Christmas came, she bought some Christmas lights and threw them on there. I didn’t like it. I wanted a real Christmas tree. I wanted a tree that I could decorate with bright lights and top off with a trumpeting angel. I wanted the same type of tree that you find only in magazines and fancy TV commercials. But no, all we had was this… house tree.

As more Christmas seasons passed over the years, I cared less and less about how the tree was decorated. As my sister Eunice and I started to grow as teenagers, we eventually stopped decorating the tree because we didn’t care. We don’t place presents under the tree anymore, we simply give them to each other on Christmas day. Christmas never died in our house. Just the tree.

It was earlier one evening and I had just woken up from a nap. To my surprise, I caught Eunice hanging lights and ornaments on the house tree. I didn’t understand her motive, but then again, did I really need to? Christmas is nearing. She must’ve felt that this was the thing to do. But seriously? Why this tree? Why not just drive to the store and buy a real Christmas tree? We’re much older now. I have the money. It’s not a big deal, so why not? Well because… after all this time, I’ve come to realize that… this is our Christmas tree. This is the Christmas tree that Eunice and I grew up with during our youth and I think we’ll continue to do so, except this time I won’t be complaining anymore.

It’s still pretty ghetto though…