Saturday, December 7, 2013

The Ghost of Christmas Trees Past, Part 2

I am continuing my story series about our Christmas trees today. If you missed the story about our first Christmas tree, here is the link to it: The Ghost of Christmas Trees Past, Part I

Christmas #2 
Almost a year of marriage was under our belts, and we had worked out several kinks in our budget. Oh, yes, by our second Christmas together, we were able to afford the Internet!  And what better instrument is there to find a Christmas tree farm 30 minutes away—one that’s rustic and quaint and in the middle of nowhere and allows a city-dweller the opportunity to cut down his or her own tree? Ahhhhhhh. We could almost smell the fresh country air permeating our apartment living room.

The day of the excursion, we forgot to print the map. Discovering this oversight halfway there, we decided to “wing it,” still fully anticipating a swift arrival.

Several hours later, however, we arrived at the farm in the dark. We had nearly decided to give up altogether. The tree farmer had closed up shop, but felt bad for us; so, he allowed us pick a tree from his pile of pre-cut trees—a pile created for the city-dwellers who did not find cutting down their own trees quite so magical, I imagine. We paid the man too much money, loaded our tree, and headed home. 

Unbeknownst to us at the time, on our roundabout way back to the apartment, we drove past the very church where we would be working in a few months. It wasn’t like a fairy-tale or anything; we didn't stop there and talk to anyone, and there wasn't a giant light shining down onto the church. I didn't even notice the church itself, nestled in front of a wooded area just off the road. But it is interesting that we were driving past dozens of future friends’ and acquaintances’ homes, completely unaware of their existence.

Maps are cool things. So say history teachers. So say I.