By Lauriate Roly
We didn’t always have much money but I know we always had a Christmas tree. The years when cash was scarce, my mother would wait until Christmas Eve to shop for one because at that late date, she could always create a bargain for one of the trees that were left rejected on the lot because they weren’t prime specimens to begin with, and most buyers wouldn’t want them. My mother eventually passed this precious chore on to me. She wasn’t physically able to continue the exercise because it didn’t end with just buying the tree; together, she and I would have to lug it home, then up three flights of stairs.
One year, walking to school, I noticed as I passed the lot where the trees were lined up for sale, there was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen. The shape was perfect. I realized that the high price of seven dollars was because the tree was enormous. The biggest one in the lot. Whoever bought that tree would have to be rich.
That year was a “scarce money” year for us. The most we could afford was fifty cents. So on Christmas Eve I set out to parlay my two quarters into a trade for the best tree I could salvage. To my amazement, the beautiful giant tree was still there, but not standing with the remaining sad looking excuses for Christmas trees. It was lying on the ground, looking a little roughed-up and slightly disheveled as if it had been handled often, and rather harshly. The tree man told me people looked at it but nobody wanted it. It was too big and it cost too much.
A light bulb over my head was suddenly switched on. If I played my cards right, maybe I could get this tree for even less than the fifty cents that was already burning a hole in my pocket. I sympathized with the man for being stuck with a tree that no one would buy. “No one” – I sadly emphasized his lament. I further sparked his interest when I said what a shame it was to be left with such a big tree, that he would sadly have to cart away and dispose of. He fully appreciated how understanding I was of his sad situation… unless he might consider letting me take it off his hands for say…twenty five cents?
“You know me; my mom and I buy a tree from you every year and twenty five cents is all we can ever afford.” Okay kid, give me a quarter and take the tree, it’s yours.
Well, I was just big enough and strong enough to drag that monster tree for half a mile up Berri street, during a heavy, snow-stormy night, all by myself. Luckily, on the way, I met up with a half-drunk neighbor who helped me get it up the three flights of stairs. We had to cut about three feet off the trunk to fit it into the room, but my mother used the extra boughs to fashion other pretty decorations around mirrors and pictures that hung on the wall.
Everyone visiting us that year acknowledged that our tree wasn’t only the best tree on the block; it was the biggest one ever to come to the neighborhood.
That all made for another nice Christmas.
Born in Montreal, Lauriate is bilingual; his mother a Geordie from Newcastle on Tyne, his father a French Canadian Quebecer. Lauriate has traveled widely and has lived in Europe. His involvements are primarily of a creative nature focused on Music, Graphic and Literary Arts in the communications fields of Advertising and phases of the Entertainment business through television and film production.
joaneee
December 18, 2012
Lauriate . . . what an ingenious little boy you were, your brain working every moment — and then the pure joy of having your idea succeed — and then bringing home this grand centerpiece of Christmas, knowing that this one year – this day – you had made all dreams come true with the tree that forever would be the foremost memory of your home at Christmas.
The memories of my own childhood Christmases — which were the one of a kind ornaments that I myself made (or were later made by my children) — along with unique ornaments, mostly my favorite – sheep – found after much searching in out-of-the-way shops, still grace my tree.
They are reminders of Christmases past with family now long past — but seeing the ornaments from that era brings up stories and memories once again, openly recalled with the resultant shedding of a few tears or the laughter of tales from that other time so precious to us.
Yes, we build new memories at Christmas time over the years, but none fill the heart as much as the yearly gathering of many generations back then with the old traditions that must have carried back for centuries in our home. And “visions of sugar plums danced in our heads . .” and love that was so open and obvious between young and old, the simple joys, the smiles, the toasts with glasses raised high still come to the fore as if it were yesterday.
Lauriate, your story brought it all back . . . those special days when we were young.
Jeannot Kensinger
December 18, 2012
Lovely memories, Lauriate, smart boy too!!!We did not “do” Christmas ,it was just about the food and going to Mass. St Nicholas came Dec6th for the kids and that was a whole other story. When I was 16 Mom decided it was about time we got a tree. We did not have tree lots that I remember . A friend found one for us in a field, it was about 3 feet tall. Mother put it in a pail with coal on top to hold it down. , she had managed to get as dozen candles and holders and that was our decor. Every pail and bucket we had was filled with water as Mom lit up the candles and was ready in case we had a fire. It was quite a sight. Tree all aglow and pots and pans of water. Merry Christmas to all.
Baby Snooks
December 22, 2012
What a beautiful reminder of the “miracles” of Christmas. And the wisdom of taking a chance and asking….