Christmas From Hades

It seemed like a simple, enjoyable Christmas tradition - trimming the tree. But even the best holiday ritual can turn ugly.

It began when I retrieved our artificial tree from the attic. (O.K., so it's not a freshly cut Norfolk pine, but ANYTHING can be transformed with a little artificial snow and some forest scent bathroom spray.)

With the exuberance of a kid who has been subsisting on fudge and candy canes, my 13-year-old daughter, Emily, (not necessarily her real name) volunteered to assemble the tree. Taking time out only for video games and a TV mini-series, she eventually finished the task.

Trouble began to brew when my mother, 93, emerged from her room to help decorate. After Emily placed the lights on the tree and had them flashing like something from Vegas, my mom, shielding her eyes, began adding ornaments.

"No!" Emily suddenly shrieked. "Those ornaments are old and shabby! There's no way we're putting them on the tree again this year!"

Mom and I exchanged incredulous glances. Old? Shabby?

"I'll thank you, Little Missy, to keep a civil tongue in your mouth with regard to these Christmas decorations," I responded. "When you insult them, you desecrate my childhood memories - what I can remember of them, that is."

There were the slightly scratched and dented glass ball ornaments that my parents collected in the 1950s when gas stations gave away gifts after a certain number of fill-ups. There was the faded ornament that came via a trip to the East Coast that read, "Yes, Santa Claus, there IS a Virginia." There was the frayed ornament commemorating "Baby's First Christmas." So what if Baby is now 50-something?

There was also the tinsel - a reminder that some things simply should not be packed in the bottom of a box but trying bravely to shine nonetheless. And then there was the angel that had graced our treetop for so many years. The fact that her head sometimes flopped off her neck and dangled precariously only endeared her to Mom and me.

Emily began deftly removing ornaments from the tree as fast as her grandma could put them on. Trying to avert a crisis, I brought them a large bowl of popcorn.

"I know!" exclaimed Emily. "I'll string popcorn for the tree!"

"No, you won't. That will look cheap!" replied my mom.

Emily and I exchanged puzzled glances. Wouldn't an elderly person LOVE to see a string of popcorn on a Christmas tree? Wouldn't it remind her of

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