Thinking back all those years to those days of that Stubborn Christmas Tree, still standing, or at least what was left of it by then, by the time Lent arrived, all got my mind working some extra hours and, as a result, I have something to share with you, something that emerged from the saga of the Christmas Tree but also from the events currently engulfing us.
It's a bit of a digression from the original Christmas Tree story but, I believe, important for us today.
As I looked back at my last writing, I see that the explanation was offered that we were using that Christmas Tree as a sort of visual lesson.
Joyously it welcomed the Christmas Feast. And joyously, radiantly we also welcomed the Feast and the One who is at the very heart of the Feast.
However, as time passed, the old tree grew older and dryer, visibly so.
It began to make us uncomfortable - just the way it was.
And that was the visual lesson for us.
That tree was visually reminding us that as time passes, we can tend to take for granted what God has done and still is doing for us.
Our faith can become lukewarm; our ceremonies and rituals can become routine and dry.
We can lose our beauty as a People of Faith.
We can become dry and boring!
That was the lesson of the Tree as Lent approached.
And now, today . . .
We are in a Lent unlike any we have ever experienced.
We are coming to a Holy Week, days away now, like none we had ever imagined.
And Easter this year . . .
Things we had come to take for granted . . .
Rituals and customs we had grown up with . . .
Things that had always been that way . . .
Not this year!
The unity around that Table of the Lord, that warm gathering for the Lord's Supper . . . in isolation this year. There will be no gathering of the community. There will only be those of us who connect via our computer screens to watch at a distance one from another.
There will be no washing of feet, no prophetic signs of our call to service, no union and no Communion.
And we will be left to hunger.
And on that Friday - again a day before those isolating screens.
The cross we may venerate will be the one in our own homes.
We will feel the emptiness of that first Good Friday in ways never in our lifetimes as yet imagined.
No crowds will gather around new fires on that Vigil night.
No blankets of glowing candles will fill the darkness of our church buildings.
We will hear no proclamations of our Sacred History, no breaking of the silence with vigorous Alleluias.
We will not wince or even duck away from water washing us anew.
And our Communion with the Risen Lord will be relegated to a Spiritual Communion.
We will hunger.
Even on Easter.
And maybe it is good for us to hunger.
Maybe we have been taking too lightly the rich blessings that we have.
Maybe we have been trivializing our treasures.
Those increasingly empty spaces at our Masses, those intensifying declarations of being "spiritual but not religious," those inclinations to assume we can do without and get away with . . . suddenly there is a void, a painful void as we come to these, the most solemn and sacred of our days.
Will we who live through these days ever take for granted again?
Should we?
Dare we?
Are we absorbing the lesson of The Hunger?
Back to the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't next blog . . .
Meantime - Stay Safe! Stay Home!
And Pray!
Thursday, March 26, 2020
Tuesday, March 24, 2020
The Christmas Tree that Wouldn't . . . Ah Ha!
And so the days rolled on.
And soon enough it was Ash Wednesday and Lent was starting.
And, yes, that stubborn Christmas Tree (or what by then was left of it) still stood in its place right there behind the altar, still demanding attention of all who would gather in that place.
By this time it was merely trunk and branches, pine needles were now all fallen and vacuumed.
No doubt as Ash Wednesday drew near there were many who thought (and hoped?) that that ugly thing would now be removed.
Whatever it's purpose, its time certainly had come.
Or so they hoped.
But that was not to be.
The remains of that once great and glorious tree remained.
And as the faithful prepared to be marked by those Lent-beginning ashes, finally - finally! - they began to be invited to understand.
The explanation began to come.
That tree . . . The Christmas Tree that just wouldn't go away . . .
Remember when it was so elegant? So beautiful? So radiantly reflecting the joyfulness of Christmas?
Remember?
In its own way that tree was a reflection of us, we, People of Faith.
We are so filled with joy at Christmastime.
We rejoice in so many things but underlying all of that joy is the realization of the One who has come to dwell among us, to walk our journey with us, to share our joys and our sorrow, to assure us by His very presence that God so loved the world.
We were radiant with joy at Christmastime.
We rejoice to welcome the Long-awaited One.
But then . . .
As the days of our lives journeys roll on we tend to grow cold and indifferent and forgetful. We tend to take for granted.
The enthusiasm wains.
The joy diminishes.
The radiance fades.
Like those long fallen pine needles.
We fade.
Our faith becomes routine.
We begin to look more and more like that faded Christmas Tree that still stands before us.
It is hard to look at now.
And come Ash Wednesday, as we look seriously and honestly at ourselves . . . well, truth be told, we can be hard to look at.
We are still People of Faith but something has happened to us.
We have grown cold.
We have lost something of our fervor, our vigor, our excitement.
We need to be renewed.
We need a time of repentance.
We need to be marked with ashes, dirt that calls us to restore the beauty that once was ours, that should still and always be ours.
That Christmas Tree that Wouldn't go away still stood before us.
Only now it was calling us to look, not so much at it as at ourselves.
Where is the beauty of our Baptism?
What has happened to the enthusiasm of our First Eucharist?
Can we commit ourselves to the task of restoring the beauty that should be there? that should be ours as a People of Faith.
That Tree stood there challenging us, making us uncomfortable . . . not so much at it as at ourselves.
And that Christmas Tree that Wouldn't go away continued to stand there before us.
Oh, yes! Still more ahead!
And stay safe and stay home!
And soon enough it was Ash Wednesday and Lent was starting.
And, yes, that stubborn Christmas Tree (or what by then was left of it) still stood in its place right there behind the altar, still demanding attention of all who would gather in that place.
By this time it was merely trunk and branches, pine needles were now all fallen and vacuumed.
No doubt as Ash Wednesday drew near there were many who thought (and hoped?) that that ugly thing would now be removed.
Whatever it's purpose, its time certainly had come.
Or so they hoped.
But that was not to be.
The remains of that once great and glorious tree remained.
And as the faithful prepared to be marked by those Lent-beginning ashes, finally - finally! - they began to be invited to understand.
The explanation began to come.
That tree . . . The Christmas Tree that just wouldn't go away . . .
Remember when it was so elegant? So beautiful? So radiantly reflecting the joyfulness of Christmas?
Remember?
In its own way that tree was a reflection of us, we, People of Faith.
We are so filled with joy at Christmastime.
We rejoice in so many things but underlying all of that joy is the realization of the One who has come to dwell among us, to walk our journey with us, to share our joys and our sorrow, to assure us by His very presence that God so loved the world.
We were radiant with joy at Christmastime.
We rejoice to welcome the Long-awaited One.
But then . . .
As the days of our lives journeys roll on we tend to grow cold and indifferent and forgetful. We tend to take for granted.
The enthusiasm wains.
The joy diminishes.
The radiance fades.
Like those long fallen pine needles.
We fade.
Our faith becomes routine.
We begin to look more and more like that faded Christmas Tree that still stands before us.
It is hard to look at now.
And come Ash Wednesday, as we look seriously and honestly at ourselves . . . well, truth be told, we can be hard to look at.
We are still People of Faith but something has happened to us.
We have grown cold.
We have lost something of our fervor, our vigor, our excitement.
We need to be renewed.
We need a time of repentance.
We need to be marked with ashes, dirt that calls us to restore the beauty that once was ours, that should still and always be ours.
That Christmas Tree that Wouldn't go away still stood before us.
Only now it was calling us to look, not so much at it as at ourselves.
Where is the beauty of our Baptism?
What has happened to the enthusiasm of our First Eucharist?
Can we commit ourselves to the task of restoring the beauty that should be there? that should be ours as a People of Faith.
That Tree stood there challenging us, making us uncomfortable . . . not so much at it as at ourselves.
And that Christmas Tree that Wouldn't go away continued to stand there before us.
Oh, yes! Still more ahead!
And stay safe and stay home!
Sunday, March 22, 2020
The (Stubborn Thing) Christmas Tree that Wouldn't
The days of January began to blend into the days of February.
Even Punxsutawney Phil was ready to put in his annual appearance to let us know how much more of winter we might have to endure.
But through all this progression of time that Christmas Tree continued to stand its ground!
No longer festive with ornaments and lights, that stubborn, old tree remained in place - up front, in church, behind the altar and visible to all.
It stood there.
And grew weaker as each day passed.
It could no longer continue to hold onto its needles.
Little by little they dried and fell.
Vacuuming underneath that stubborn old tree became a daily necessity.
Needless to say, those responsible for keeping the church clean were not too happy about that stubborn tree that would not go away.
Members of the Assembly who gathered for prayer and worship could not help but wonder about that stubborn tree that would not go away. It may have even evoked a distraction or two (or three!)
"You want us to take it down, Father?"
That question emerged from many a quarter.
It began to seem as if more and more members of the congregation were all too eager to lend a hand and get rid of that tree.
Finally, it happened.
One fine day there was a funeral.
And, of course, funeral Masses were most often followed by a trip to the cemetery.
And on returning from just such a trip, I entered the church to put some things away and I noticed.
The tree was gone!
Someone had actually stepped up and utilized that window of opportunity to rid us of the tree that, at least until then, would just not go away.
But now the tree was gone!
Although it had not gone all that far away.
It rested for the moment in the dumpster.
And that meant it was still salvageable!
And so in no time at all the tree was back!
And those who had orchestrated its departure were left to scratching their heads in wonderment.
What was it about this tree?
Why the stubbornness?
And truth be told, it wasn't the tree being stubborn. Trees don't have that ability.
People do.
And I do!
And I was being the stubborn one.
I was not letting that tree disappear.
Even as it shed its needles and grew ever more brittle and dry, that tree was staying.
And making people uncomfortable - very uncomfortable.
It wasn't going away anytime soon.
It would stay and make folk uncomfortable.
And it would do so because that was the whole idea behind the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't!
Clearly, more is coming . . .
Meantime - stay safe; stay home!
Even Punxsutawney Phil was ready to put in his annual appearance to let us know how much more of winter we might have to endure.
But through all this progression of time that Christmas Tree continued to stand its ground!
No longer festive with ornaments and lights, that stubborn, old tree remained in place - up front, in church, behind the altar and visible to all.
It stood there.
And grew weaker as each day passed.
It could no longer continue to hold onto its needles.
Little by little they dried and fell.
Vacuuming underneath that stubborn old tree became a daily necessity.
Needless to say, those responsible for keeping the church clean were not too happy about that stubborn tree that would not go away.
Members of the Assembly who gathered for prayer and worship could not help but wonder about that stubborn tree that would not go away. It may have even evoked a distraction or two (or three!)
"You want us to take it down, Father?"
That question emerged from many a quarter.
It began to seem as if more and more members of the congregation were all too eager to lend a hand and get rid of that tree.
Finally, it happened.
One fine day there was a funeral.
And, of course, funeral Masses were most often followed by a trip to the cemetery.
And on returning from just such a trip, I entered the church to put some things away and I noticed.
The tree was gone!
Someone had actually stepped up and utilized that window of opportunity to rid us of the tree that, at least until then, would just not go away.
But now the tree was gone!
Although it had not gone all that far away.
It rested for the moment in the dumpster.
And that meant it was still salvageable!
And so in no time at all the tree was back!
And those who had orchestrated its departure were left to scratching their heads in wonderment.
What was it about this tree?
Why the stubbornness?
And truth be told, it wasn't the tree being stubborn. Trees don't have that ability.
People do.
And I do!
And I was being the stubborn one.
I was not letting that tree disappear.
Even as it shed its needles and grew ever more brittle and dry, that tree was staying.
And making people uncomfortable - very uncomfortable.
It wasn't going away anytime soon.
It would stay and make folk uncomfortable.
And it would do so because that was the whole idea behind the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't!
Clearly, more is coming . . .
Meantime - stay safe; stay home!
Wednesday, March 18, 2020
Introducing The Christmas Tree that Wouldn't!
Once upon a time . . .
Nah!
That is the way those fictional, usually kids' tales begin.
And they are all fantasy, make believe.
This is a true story!
None of it is made up.
The whole thing really happened and I can testify to that fact.
It happened and I know it happened because, to a very large degree, I was the one responsible for actually making it happen.
This is a tale about a Christmas Tree -- a most unusual Christmas Tree, so unusual in fact that it is a story that can even be told as we enter into springtime.
This is a tale that goes back a bit, actually way back, back into the 1970's.
Some who were there when this saga unfolded may still remember it. They may even have told this story to friends, children and grandchildren.
And it is quite likely that those who remember also break into a smile as they remember.
It is a tale that could likely not even happen in our time.
It could not happen because insurance companies just would not let it happen, not anymore!
But back then, in the 1970's it could happen and it did happen.
For this tale to happen, a real tree is required.
And the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't was just that, a real tree.
Fresh cut, green needles, sap still flowing, and an aroma - that fragrant aroma of pine!
So this Christmas Tree that Wouldn't started its story as a freshly cut evergreen brought into the church as a kind of centerpiece decoration for the Christmas Season.
This was back in the 1970's - keep that in mind. Artificial trees were a strange phenomenon at that time.
Ours was a "real" tree.
And it was also unique in that it actually had a double trunk. It stood tall and stately slightly behind the altar.
And, of course, lights made it festive and ornaments as well. It was rich and beautiful. It invited "Ohs" and "Awes."
The lights shone forth finally on Christmas Eve and as the faithful assembled for the Midnight Mass, that tree was there to warmly welcome them.
The beauty of the Season was captured in the beauty of that tree.
The joy in the hearts of the faithful was captured in the joyful presence of that tree.
Throughout the whole of that Christmas Season, from Christmas Eve up to the Epiphany, that tree joined us in joyful celebration.
We welcomed the coming of the long-awaited Lord.
But then the Season came to its end.
The Twelfth Night came and went.
Home decorations were put away for still another time. Neighborhood lights and decorations disappeared. Stores brought out decor of hearts and flowers - Valentine's Day was ahead.
Christmas had ended.
But that tree . . . the double trunked tree . . . well, the decorations came off as was to be expected and the lights came off as was only proper.
But the tree . . .
It still stood there.
It didn't go away.
It wouldn't go away.
It just stood there!
And, obviously, there is more to come . . .
STAY SAFE! STAY HOME!
Nah!
That is the way those fictional, usually kids' tales begin.
And they are all fantasy, make believe.
This is a true story!
None of it is made up.
The whole thing really happened and I can testify to that fact.
It happened and I know it happened because, to a very large degree, I was the one responsible for actually making it happen.
This is a tale about a Christmas Tree -- a most unusual Christmas Tree, so unusual in fact that it is a story that can even be told as we enter into springtime.
This is a tale that goes back a bit, actually way back, back into the 1970's.
Some who were there when this saga unfolded may still remember it. They may even have told this story to friends, children and grandchildren.
And it is quite likely that those who remember also break into a smile as they remember.
It is a tale that could likely not even happen in our time.
It could not happen because insurance companies just would not let it happen, not anymore!
But back then, in the 1970's it could happen and it did happen.
For this tale to happen, a real tree is required.
And the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't was just that, a real tree.
Fresh cut, green needles, sap still flowing, and an aroma - that fragrant aroma of pine!
So this Christmas Tree that Wouldn't started its story as a freshly cut evergreen brought into the church as a kind of centerpiece decoration for the Christmas Season.
This was back in the 1970's - keep that in mind. Artificial trees were a strange phenomenon at that time.
Ours was a "real" tree.
And it was also unique in that it actually had a double trunk. It stood tall and stately slightly behind the altar.
And, of course, lights made it festive and ornaments as well. It was rich and beautiful. It invited "Ohs" and "Awes."
The lights shone forth finally on Christmas Eve and as the faithful assembled for the Midnight Mass, that tree was there to warmly welcome them.
The beauty of the Season was captured in the beauty of that tree.
The joy in the hearts of the faithful was captured in the joyful presence of that tree.
Throughout the whole of that Christmas Season, from Christmas Eve up to the Epiphany, that tree joined us in joyful celebration.
We welcomed the coming of the long-awaited Lord.
But then the Season came to its end.
The Twelfth Night came and went.
Home decorations were put away for still another time. Neighborhood lights and decorations disappeared. Stores brought out decor of hearts and flowers - Valentine's Day was ahead.
Christmas had ended.
But that tree . . . the double trunked tree . . . well, the decorations came off as was to be expected and the lights came off as was only proper.
But the tree . . .
It still stood there.
It didn't go away.
It wouldn't go away.
It just stood there!
And, obviously, there is more to come . . .
STAY SAFE! STAY HOME!
Thursday, March 12, 2020
Pay Attention - - - Please!
I know!
My last blog I promised to tell you the tale of the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't.
And I will do that, I promise, starting with my next blog.
But for right now, I feel I have to write this.
More than just "feel," I sense myself being inspired to write this and believe me, when this sort of inspiration takes hold, you do not mess around.
And so, because of all that has been unfolding recently, I write this and I guess this is something that I hope - as the saying goes - goes viral.
It needs to.
A lot is being said these days about washing hands and how critically important that is.
And it truly is.
And I not only add my encouraging voice to that but I put into practice what is being preached.
Wash your hands - often and properly and thoroughly!
But something else is being said as well and, as I think about it, it is just as important and maybe even more so.
That would be - Stay Home!
The Covid-19 virus, from current observations, is affecting many only slightly or lightly. In numerous cases it is a matter of a slight fever, sniffles, scratchy throat and the like.
You got it but you still do not feel all that badly.
And therein the temptation arises.
I don't need to stay home.
I feel good enough to go to work, to school, to church, to wherever.
And so out you go.
That self-quarantining stuff - well, I don't need it.
I feel good!
To that sort of thinking I say - stop thinking about yourself.
Think of others!
And evidently in this day and age that can be a real challenge.
We live in a world that seems too often to preach - me first!
Well, the world really does not revolve only around you!
Sorry but that Copernicus fellow was right.
The sun does not revolve around the earth and the world does not revolve around you either.
It is time to think of others.
You may feel good enough to not want to stay home.
No matter.
Stay Home!
Staying Home may well be important, even critical, even life-saving!
I am speaking from a personal perspective.
The virus may hit you, as it seems to be hitting many, fairly lightly. However, it is also hitting the elderly and those with certain preexisting conditions harshly, even fatally. And while you feel good enough, you have still got the bug.
You are a carrier!
Two very important observations have emerged in recent days - the importance of "flattening the curve" and the importance of "social distancing."
Flattening the curve suggests that we take proper measures to avoid any chance of spreading the virus so that, even though others eventually are afflicted, the overall impact is spread out so as to not overwhelm the medical system. Give more space to allow better treatment and easier access to the necessary medical tools. Makes a lot of sense.
You got the bug. Don't give it out so freely!
And that social distancing - simply put, keep a space between you and anyone else, especially if you got the bug!
Stay Home! Resist the temptation to go out just because you don't feel all that bad.
You may feel fine; you may not have been hit hard.
But think about others.
Especially those most vulnerable.
Stay Home!
Please!
Folk like me don't need your bugs and so, for a time, we do not need your presence!
And I say that for myself, personally, and for the many like me.
I am in my eighties now.
That makes me "elderly."
And that makes me vulnerable.
I have diabetes, controlled but still real.
That makes me vulnerable.
I have high blood pressure, also controlled but also very real.
That makes me vulnerable.
That's a whole lot of strikes against me.
See why I tell you to Stay Home!
You may feel good but you also may just kill me!
And I will add to that, I feel ready for when that time comes.
I just don't want it to be for some dumb reason that could easily be avoided!
So, hear me.
Stay Home!
If you got it but still feel reasonably good, think of others.
Think of folks like me.
Stay Home!
We can beat this!
Together!
My last blog I promised to tell you the tale of the Christmas Tree that Wouldn't.
And I will do that, I promise, starting with my next blog.
But for right now, I feel I have to write this.
More than just "feel," I sense myself being inspired to write this and believe me, when this sort of inspiration takes hold, you do not mess around.
And so, because of all that has been unfolding recently, I write this and I guess this is something that I hope - as the saying goes - goes viral.
It needs to.
A lot is being said these days about washing hands and how critically important that is.
And it truly is.
And I not only add my encouraging voice to that but I put into practice what is being preached.
Wash your hands - often and properly and thoroughly!
But something else is being said as well and, as I think about it, it is just as important and maybe even more so.
That would be - Stay Home!
The Covid-19 virus, from current observations, is affecting many only slightly or lightly. In numerous cases it is a matter of a slight fever, sniffles, scratchy throat and the like.
You got it but you still do not feel all that badly.
And therein the temptation arises.
I don't need to stay home.
I feel good enough to go to work, to school, to church, to wherever.
And so out you go.
That self-quarantining stuff - well, I don't need it.
I feel good!
To that sort of thinking I say - stop thinking about yourself.
Think of others!
And evidently in this day and age that can be a real challenge.
We live in a world that seems too often to preach - me first!
Well, the world really does not revolve only around you!
Sorry but that Copernicus fellow was right.
The sun does not revolve around the earth and the world does not revolve around you either.
It is time to think of others.
You may feel good enough to not want to stay home.
No matter.
Stay Home!
Staying Home may well be important, even critical, even life-saving!
I am speaking from a personal perspective.
The virus may hit you, as it seems to be hitting many, fairly lightly. However, it is also hitting the elderly and those with certain preexisting conditions harshly, even fatally. And while you feel good enough, you have still got the bug.
You are a carrier!
Two very important observations have emerged in recent days - the importance of "flattening the curve" and the importance of "social distancing."
Flattening the curve suggests that we take proper measures to avoid any chance of spreading the virus so that, even though others eventually are afflicted, the overall impact is spread out so as to not overwhelm the medical system. Give more space to allow better treatment and easier access to the necessary medical tools. Makes a lot of sense.
You got the bug. Don't give it out so freely!
And that social distancing - simply put, keep a space between you and anyone else, especially if you got the bug!
Stay Home! Resist the temptation to go out just because you don't feel all that bad.
You may feel fine; you may not have been hit hard.
But think about others.
Especially those most vulnerable.
Stay Home!
Please!
Folk like me don't need your bugs and so, for a time, we do not need your presence!
And I say that for myself, personally, and for the many like me.
I am in my eighties now.
That makes me "elderly."
And that makes me vulnerable.
I have diabetes, controlled but still real.
That makes me vulnerable.
I have high blood pressure, also controlled but also very real.
That makes me vulnerable.
That's a whole lot of strikes against me.
See why I tell you to Stay Home!
You may feel good but you also may just kill me!
And I will add to that, I feel ready for when that time comes.
I just don't want it to be for some dumb reason that could easily be avoided!
So, hear me.
Stay Home!
If you got it but still feel reasonably good, think of others.
Think of folks like me.
Stay Home!
We can beat this!
Together!
Tuesday, March 10, 2020
Choices! Choices!
I have actually received recommendations for future blog content.
After my saga at the end of 2019, the blogs that told the story of the journey I took to welcome the year 2000, I got some expressed interest in hearing about some of my other trips.
Over the years I have taken a number of trips and it seems without fail, many included an adventure or two. And those adventures were not about lost luggage either.
Sharing stories of some of these journeys just might prove entertaining.
I shall endeavor to do so in some of my future blogs.
More recently I got more content suggestions.
(Two recommendations actually!)
One suggestion was that I spend some blog space telling about the "joys" of aging!
Talk about the reality, the suggestion went.
Talk about all the aches and pains.
Really!
Like someone would want to read about the aches and pains of us seniors?
Really!
I mean, just listen in on a conversation taking place between folks of that certain age. Listen carefully.
All we talk about, or so it seems, are those aches and pains and doctors' appointments.
"How's that back of yours today?"
"When I saw my doctor last week . . ."
"Last time I was in the hospital . . . "
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera . . .
And on and on the woes do flow.
And who wants to hear of things like that?
Let's just keep our aches and pains tales to ourselves and let those younger discover them for theirselves, shall we.
Let's just give those younger ones the chance to proclaim as I have heard some in my generation doing, "How come our parents never told us growing old was like this?"
Let them find out for themselves how those doctors' appointments can fill the social calendar.
But then there was another suggestion.
I was reminded of a certain Christmas tree.
Now I know, we are on the move toward springtime. We have already jumped out clocks an hour ahead. Those Peeps are reminding us that Easter is near.
Christmas Tree?
Really?
At this time of the year?
Ah, but this is the story of a very special Christmas Tree.
Call it the Christmas Tree that wouldn't.
It's a true story.
And a sometimes humorous tale.
And it actually is a story of a Christmas Tree that has some significant ties with moments like Lent and Easter.
It's about a Christmas Tree that just would not go away!
And I accept responsibility for this Tree that would just not go away.
So if this has somehow picked your curiosity, watch for my next blog.
I am going to tell the story of that infamous Christmas Tree.
The Christmas Tree that wouldn't . . .
After my saga at the end of 2019, the blogs that told the story of the journey I took to welcome the year 2000, I got some expressed interest in hearing about some of my other trips.
Over the years I have taken a number of trips and it seems without fail, many included an adventure or two. And those adventures were not about lost luggage either.
Sharing stories of some of these journeys just might prove entertaining.
I shall endeavor to do so in some of my future blogs.
More recently I got more content suggestions.
(Two recommendations actually!)
One suggestion was that I spend some blog space telling about the "joys" of aging!
Talk about the reality, the suggestion went.
Talk about all the aches and pains.
Really!
Like someone would want to read about the aches and pains of us seniors?
Really!
I mean, just listen in on a conversation taking place between folks of that certain age. Listen carefully.
All we talk about, or so it seems, are those aches and pains and doctors' appointments.
"How's that back of yours today?"
"When I saw my doctor last week . . ."
"Last time I was in the hospital . . . "
Etcetera, etcetera, etcetera . . .
And on and on the woes do flow.
And who wants to hear of things like that?
Let's just keep our aches and pains tales to ourselves and let those younger discover them for theirselves, shall we.
Let's just give those younger ones the chance to proclaim as I have heard some in my generation doing, "How come our parents never told us growing old was like this?"
Let them find out for themselves how those doctors' appointments can fill the social calendar.
But then there was another suggestion.
I was reminded of a certain Christmas tree.
Now I know, we are on the move toward springtime. We have already jumped out clocks an hour ahead. Those Peeps are reminding us that Easter is near.
Christmas Tree?
Really?
At this time of the year?
Ah, but this is the story of a very special Christmas Tree.
Call it the Christmas Tree that wouldn't.
It's a true story.
And a sometimes humorous tale.
And it actually is a story of a Christmas Tree that has some significant ties with moments like Lent and Easter.
It's about a Christmas Tree that just would not go away!
And I accept responsibility for this Tree that would just not go away.
So if this has somehow picked your curiosity, watch for my next blog.
I am going to tell the story of that infamous Christmas Tree.
The Christmas Tree that wouldn't . . .
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