THE MIRACLE TREE

THE MIRACLE TREE
Tuesday, November 29, 2022 by Linda Wood Rondeau

Categories: devotional

TUESDAY’S TREASURE

THE MIRACLE TREE

LINDA WOOD RONDEAU

That year, we had no tree since we were in the process of moving, possibly during the holiday. As I packed up my Christmas decorations, I was reminded of a special tree, the one we dubbed The Miracle Tree.

I remembered how we opted for a more “homegrown” experience for the children. As fate would have it, our friends started their You-Pick Christmas Tree enterprise. “Sounds like a good deal,” I told my husband. “Plus, we get to spend an afternoon with friends.”

Life is rarely that simple.

With temperatures in single digits, we sucked in courage and went to our friends’ country home. Kerry led the way into the woods and then pointed up at the towering pines. “Don’t worry how high the tree is. Once it’s cut down, we’ll trim from the top.”

We traipsed the woods for over an hour. There it is! “That’s the tree I want!”

Fully understanding my deficient depth perception, my husband responded with uncertainty. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“As sure as when we got married.”

Kerry cut the tree at the length I suggested.

Eying its long green needles, I imagined how beautiful it would look in just a few days.

My husband clicked with worry. “I doubt I can even get it on top of the car.” When my eyes filled with tears, he gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll figure something out.” Half an hour later, exhausted but exhilarated, we dropped the tree by the station wagon.

Hubs secured the tree and we drove home. But we couldn’t get it through the door.

Seeds of doubt eroded my joy.

Steve quickly took charge. After a few hacks here and there, he managed to squeeze the tree in without taking the door off. The next hurdle would be fitting it in the dining room since the tree stood eight feet and our ceiling height was six. Not to mention the eight-foot span on the tree branches couldn’t squeeze into our five-foot dining room.

My eyes welled.

My husband thrives on challenges. “John, get me the saw again. This is the tree your mother wanted. This is the tree we’ll have.”

After a few more adjustments, he hoisted it into the stand, and it toppled over. My valiant knight secured the tree with yards of strong twine. Like a maniacal marionette without a puppeteer, it swallowed the entire dining room. Over the next few days, we adorned our misshapen treasure with lights and ornaments and ate our meals on TV trays in the living room while we stared at the ugly thing that had usurped our lives.

On Christmas Eve, the miracle happened.

We piled the gifts under the monster while our daughter scanned the tree with interest. “Can we sing Christmas carols?”

My husband nodded and grabbed the guitar while Edie turned off the house lights.

During Silent Night, suddenly all seemed miraculously calm and bright. A strange halo effect surrounded the excuse for a tree as if God smiled down on our attempts and delighted us with His presence. And at that moment, the meaning of Christmas burned in our hearts as never before. The ugliest tree I had ever seen transformed before our eyes, a beautiful emblem of love and hope.