by Bryan Cole

Created on: December 13, 2010

As a child, Christmas was always a wonderful time of year. Up till the time I was 13 years old, my family lived way out in the sticks on the Georgia/South Carolina border. There was no tree farm,Wal-Mart, or place in town to buy a Christmas tree. So every year my Daddy, brother(when he was old enough) and I would ride God-Knows-Where to this run down house that a black man lived in. I don't remember the man's name but I remember he always had a smile on his face. The goal of this escapade was to find and cut down our own Christmas tree. Daddy would grab the ax, hand the man $20, smile and say thanks, and off we'd go. I have no idea why on earth we would have to walk such a distance to find a tree, but it always ended up happening that way. Probably because when it comes to Christmas trees, us kids have to make sure it's perfect!  Eventually we'd find a cypress tree that fit the bill, chop it down, and head back to the car. My father and the man whose land we were on, would exchange pleasantries such as, "Did you find one you like?", and "Yes sir we did." The man's statement of, "Oh that's a fine looking tree!", would result in us strapping this thing down as if we were heading into a hurricane! "Ya'll have a Merry Christmas", and "See you next year!" , were the final touches before hitting the road to the house.

Arriving home with our "official Christmas tree" always started with my mom finding something wrong with it. Nine times out of ten the tree was way to tall to fit in the living room. Like ordering off a menu with your stomach instead of head, we had way too much tree leftover! Trimming the tree down always resulted in a family quarrel. The local phone book was about as thick as cliff note so we always had to stuff leftover newspapers to balance this massive tree out. It took my mom 30 minutes just to find some newspapers that she   didn't want to keep! I'm sure some of these "saved, useful articles" are sadly in their attic somewhere......unread. Decorating would make things only worse. Ive seen all out brawls on who's going to hang what ornament and you can forget about the friendly compromise on who tops off the tree with the angel! My siblings and I loved to sling icicles all over the tree for a shiny, finishing touch. Looking back,  we were somewhat excessive with the icicles but it looked great to us.

The evening would end with hot chocalate and smiles, as I would run over to the antenna knob to dial in our favorite station. Setting the dial to the southwest, we would be giddy listening to the familiar hum of our rooftop antenna slowly erasing the only snow we ever had around Christmas, into a somewhat clear picture on the TV. We absolutly loved whatever Christmas special was on the tube, and would sit in bliss, sipping hot chocalate, with only the briefest spats, in the glow of our annual living room decor.

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