The Christmas tree was telling them all of their collective past.
It was part of them and as long as they lived, it could recreate things that might have been lost forever…by the magic of a talking tree.
It would remind them of each other, and the good things and times between them.
And it transformed their feelings and unconscious into a mostly happy and warm, yet bittersweet moment of feelings from the past…like spirits suddenly visible, but ghosts in the mists of their memories.
This shining Christmas tree now took center place in the room as it began to radiate and shimmer with its message to each person in the family. Its tall top stood as a history, real and accomplished; and its beauty the memory and tradition of that history. It bound each of them together. The original ornaments and lights had all been replaced with pieces of their lives. All lovingly preserved by their mother. No amount of money or rhetoric could ever speak louder than the silent symbol that spoke to each inner soul, and bound by the thought of the love and dedication such a tree, and moment from a mother.
Now you may not have such a tree, but anyone who has a loving mother and caring father will have such a tree. It only requires a room, a simple tree, and lots of love and hard work. And for a moment they all hoped that every child in every land could have such a moment. And since they knew many would not, they took a moment to be thankful for their own fortune. And to remember that no matter how well they did in the future, they must never forget to be humble and grateful for their good fortune. And to share their love and compassion whenever they could with those who might not have had the same tree to speak to them.
The man had become tired as he watched. But as he saw his family open their memories he felt a sensation of his own joy and spirit from the past awaken, and kindle into a new spirit of hope.
He watched his daughter, so full of beauty and joy. Just the other day he could hold her with one arm as she sat in his hand, laughing; and his son in the other.
Now she was a women; and he was a strapping man.
But she still needed him for a few years. He liked that. And his son, who a few years ago had suddenly grown like a weed to be as tall as his father… his son could no wear his shoes. He was not only a fine future engineer and thinker, but he was also kind and compassionate. They would both be fine additions to the human race. He was thankful. He too was fortunate. And though his feelings of melancholy and disappointment would always be with him, he knew his lot was better that any man had a right to.
The dad was still young. And he knew he had one more job to complete. To give his children and family a spirit that made the tree real. Because they would all need it in the coming years. And the tree offered a crescendo of hope and caring. The man’s eyes were blurred. The tree was blurred. He felt for a moment his bitterness being replaced with love and understanding.
The tree suddenly spoke to him and said: I cannot change the reality of the world.
What has been, is gone; what is, is, and what will be, will be.
But I can make certain you do not
forget that the happiness and love in your soul now is real.
If you can remember the two are inseparable, your search is over.
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