The day before Thanksgiving, our Christmas tree arrived. We'd pre-ordered one, the first time in several years we've had a real tree, and not a fake one. It has been waiting in the corner, my boys asking every day when they can decorate it.
Tonight was finally the night. The science fair project that has taken so much time was finally finished, and with a solid two days off from work, my house was at a decent stage of clean.
I opened the first box of ornaments and stared in surprise. A set of beautiful red and deep burgundy ornaments lay neatly across the top of the box, and it took me a minute to remember where they had come from. When I realized what they were, I almost began weeping.
Three Christmases ago, my husband's business was falling apart. In a two week span, he'd lost 80% of his client work. We had a very meager Christmas, and we had no way of knowing that it was just the beginning of a very long journey. A couple weeks after Christmas, I happened into Target, and stumbled across the 80% off Post-Christmas-Sale. I spent $18. I bought the beautiful set of designer ornaments, with two more packs of gold ornaments to match. I bought designer wrapping paper and designer gift tags. I bought a couple of garlands. I also bought a small fake Christmas Tree and a box of tiny ornaments to decorate it with. I couldn't really afford the $18. But it was like a hail-marry, a desperate bravado, a symbolic plea for hope.
I'd already seen the writing on the wall, we were desperate. I didn't have a job, my husband had almost no work. If some how everything turned around, then in a year I could decorate a designer tree and toast to overcoming tough times. If things continued to spiral down, well then at least the little tree was small enough to mount in the front window of my van next Christmas, because the way things were going, that was were we were probably going to be living.
On May 1st, 2009, our lives pretty much went the way of option #2. Except for living in our van, we were living with my parents. I'd found what I thought was a temporary job. B was still looking everywhere and anywhere. I'd only be for the summer, I'd told my self. At the end of summer, I decided it'd only be for 6 months. Christmas '09 came, and found us even less able to finance our own living situation than the year before. And somewhere, in a box, at the back of a storage unit, my tiny tree and it's tiny ornaments were packed away. To be honest, I don't remember that Christmas at all. There is about a year and a half that is just void in my memory. Despair and grief and exhaustion will do that to your mind, I suppose.
December '10 came; I remember that year- we were beginning to pick up traction. My part-time, temporary job had turned into a full time job. B had found a job that worked around my hours, and he had a trickle of new work. We had no way of knowing it then, but we were just beginning to pick up traction.
April came, and with it came a leap of faith, as we found a tiny house with a giant back yard to call our own. My kids kept saying things like, "Mommy, it doesn't make any sense why Grandma and Grandpa live in a huge house with lots of room and two people, and we live in a tiny house with 6 people." I was, and am still, grateful to have something to call our own, regardless of its modest size.
Tonight I opened a box. Tonight I opened a tidal wave of memories. Of loss. Of hope, of despair, of joy, and of deep gratitude for all that the Lord has carefully lead us through. Tonight I saw a gleaming box of ornaments, and the reality of finally having a designer tree, instead of the usual hodge-podge of ornaments collected and made over the years. Tonight I watched my little boys' faces drop as I told them not to worry about the old ornaments they were already diving into and looking for names on the bottom, trying to remember Christmases more than three years past. Tonight I put the lid back on my gorgeous red and burgundy and gold ornaments, burring them in a box with empty ornament boxes, as memories flooded our home and tree. It is a small tree, in our tiny house. It is brightly lit and covered with a patchwork of ornaments that span the globe and our memories. Nothing really matches at all, and I wasn't responsible for hanging more than two ornaments on the whole tree. And yet, it is the most beautiful tree I have ever had, a tree that will forever live in my memory symbolically as hope differed, and fulfilled. It is a gorgeous testament to a humble re-beginning, rich in love and joy.
For all of the uncertainty you face in this holiday season, know you are not the first to walk it's streets, or fall prey to its all consuming fear. But please know, that while darkness lasts for the night, eventually morning has to dawn again. And should you find yourself walking a road darkening with shifting shadows, know you are certainly not on that voyage alone. From one who has suffered the darkest nights, may the joy of dawn be not far from your weary feet.
Salud, H.
