Transforming Christmas

When I was in the fifth grade, my parents announced that they were separating and would likely divorce. As time drew on, my dad got his own little one bedroom apartment, and it became apparent that the separation was permanent. My sister and I spent our Tuesday nights and some weekends at my dad's little bachelor pad. We watched the A-Team on a little 13 inch screen and ate a lot of spam in that apartment. While the divorce was relatively amicable, things seemed ugly and dull.

I guess that's how my dad felt at Christmastime when he said he wanted to get the ugliest tree on the lot. The scraggly little twig that he placed atop his homemade oak end table for us to decorate was a hideous little thing--dead needles and big gaping holes, barely strong enough to support the lights strung about its pathetic little branches.

With a bit of care, however, we transformed that unsightly little "tree" into something quite lovely. Despite its drooping branches, the glow from the colored lights somehow warmed that lonely little apartment and brought some Christmas cheer to the three of us.

My dad's intentions suddenly made sense to me: Life was a bit ugly for now, but would warm up and be enjoyable soon... ...Either that, or he was just rebelling against the fabulous 7 foot evergreens that usually adorned our living room at my mom's house. "Take that!"