Although my parents thoroughly enjoyed Christmas, they weren't overly fastidious about decorating. "Decking the halls" was not high on their priority list; paying Santa was their concern. My mother would place some Christmas doodads here and there and put a Christmas tablecloth on the dining room table. The kitchen was the focus of her Christmas spirit. The tree, however, was handled by my dad who was even less scrupulous than my mother. He was a practical man and saw no need in making something difficult. Thus, his tree routine was simple and uniquely his. As clerk of the court at the time, he had access to the court vault, a secure 12x12 room that contained court records, copies of the local newspaper, and official papers. It was in the vault that O.B. kept our tree, a completely decorated artificial tree. All that was required was simply to stick the tree in the car and bring it to the house. A little tinsel may have gotten lost along the way, but we kids never knew the difference. Christmas had arrived. Life was good. All of the elegantly adorned trees that I see these days pale in comparison with that slightly eschew, lopsided tree.
Nanette, with the years I had forgotten much of what you so accurately describe here. Little did we know at the time how much Mother and Dad literally did without so that they could put presents for the four of us under that scrubby tree. But we knew even then that the little tree was well decorated with love. Paulk
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