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Email a FriendPosted by Claire on Sunday, Jan 1, 2012 8:01 PM (EDT):
Beautiful, Rachel! I too opt for just a photo Christmas card.
Wonderful Christmastime
Sometimes, the picture says it all
by Rachel Balducci in Family on Sunday, January 01, 2012 6:26 PM
We got the prettiest Christmas tree this year. As part of our annual family ritual, we loaded up the kids and headed out to the country to our favorite tree farm, just like we’ve done every year since Paul and I were first married.
Our very first Christmas, Paul tagged along with friends. I was working my weekend shift as the obituary writer at the paper, so the two of us grabbed a tree in town and he went along that Sunday for the ride.
The next year, and nearly every year since then, we have gone to this tree farm way out in the middle of nowhere. Some years we chop down a local tree, lately we’ve sprung for the fancier trees trucked in from colder climes, but we always head home with a tree we love and that we declare to be “the best one ever.”
This year was no exception. As we tromped around the grounds, the boys and their cousins chasing each other among the forests, Paul and I surveyed every tree within our height and budgetary requirements. I used to get my eyes all fixated on the ten-footers — they just don’t look that big in the great outdoors. Paul finally convinced me one year that while the seven-footers seem tiny, that’s really the size that suits us best.
So now we know and that’s what we’re there to consider.
This year, as we inspected the one we ultimately brought home, I noticed a gap in the lower section. It wasn’t a deal-breaker, but it was definitely noticeable. There was always the chance it would fill in over time, when the branches started to relax a bit, but you never know.
“We can put that side in the corner,” I declared. This tree had enough of the other elements I love — not too skinny, just fat enough — that I was willing to work around this flaw.
On the way home, tree purchased and loaded, family happy and content, I started thinking about the other things we needed to get done for Christmas. There were lights to buy, gift lists to refine, so much to clean, so much to do.
And the Christmas card — that whole project.
Each year I get to the Christmas card, briefly consider the Christmas Letter, and then toss that idea in favor of a simple photo instead. I find you can get plenty of information about a family from their picture: toddlers strategically pinned down to hold them still for three seconds, middle children with their impish grins, the oldest now towering over mom and inching close to dad, faces flashing the tell-tale signs of puberty and orthodontia. A beautiful season, but not always the most perfect for that age.
And one glance at mom and dad says the most — has dad lost hair? Is mom going gray? The mixture of lines that are maybe slightly from the stress of family life but hopefully, Lord willing, more from all the smiling and laughing and complicated bliss of the vocation of Family.
I opt, once again, not to write a thing. The picture says it all. Because as I reflect on our year, on the ups and downs, the joys and agitations, I realize that like my Christmas tree, it is not perfect.
But unlike my tree, it’s hard not to mention the challenges. I feel untrue sending out a letter filled only with our triumphs. Yes the kids are doing great in school, I’d be tempted to write. They are playing well on the basketball team and Paul’s business is good — but I yelled at the kids here and there and lost my patience. Children misbehaved and some days were just way more demanding than others.
And then I realize — that’s not what Christmas is all about. Like my tree, we tuck away the less desirable parts. Maybe because we don’t talk about it, or maybe because that is the Spirit of the Season.
This is the season of hope, filled with tidings of joy and gladness. And yes we know that’s not the true human condition one hundred percent of the time, but what our Savior’s birth means to us is that there is that possibility, someday. And oh, how we rejoice.
— Faith & Family Live blogger Rachel Balducci also blogs at Testosterhome. This column originally appeared in the Southern Cross.
Comments
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I really enjoyed reading your reflection. We always send a photo and letter. It is my goal to keep it honest and balanced. When I’ve had a really terrible year, which has thankfully only been twice in my entire history of Christmas letter-writing, I don’t hide from it but try not to have all my friends and family scared after reading it. 
I also attempt not too make it overly positive and come off braggy. Just writing this comment makes me realize I probably spend a whole lot more time thinking about this than comes through in my annual update!
Posted by Tina on Monday, Jan 2, 2012 8:40 AM (EDT):
Actually, I’d appreciate hearing some of the non-triumphs in people’s Christmas letters sometimes… this year I found myself really down comparing my family to others’ and all their accomplishments for the year! It seemed my kids weren’t involved enough, honored enough, didn’t go on as many trips… Then I realized, if I sat down and wrote out only the good things about this past year, we’d probably measure up just fine. So maybe next year we’ll send out a Christmas letter after all…
Posted by Monica (momof2) on Monday, Jan 2, 2012 12:19 PM (EDT):
I hate hate hate the braggy Christmas letters which sound so unrealistic. We all know each other’s families aren’t perfect so why do we pretend? When I write a Christmas letter, which is not every year, I try to be factual about the triumphs and challenges. That doesn’t mean I go into all the gorey details, and often I try to find some humorous element about it. Such as telling about the interesting concoctions my son came up with making dinner for the family when I was laid up for medical problems. My friends really do want to know how we are doing and don’t just want a sugar coating and I want the same from them. We care about each other and are not writing for the purpose of impressing.
Posted by mothering spirit on Monday, Jan 2, 2012 1:49 PM (EDT):
Love this image of how we all tend to turn the less-than-perfect side of the Christmas tree towards the wall. We get fixated on the one spot that’s not meeting our expectations for how it should look, and we want to hide it away. But every tree is imperfect, yet still beautiful and strong in its own way. So are we. Great reminder.
Posted by Susie on Monday, Jan 2, 2012 8:20 PM (EDT):
As for the tree, well our first one dropped so many needles before Christmas that we actually called Home Depot and they replaced it with another one for free. This one had a crooked trunk, and fell down 3 times (before ornaments but after lights) till we weighted it with hand weights. Then, we found out the stand was leaking all over the carpet so we had to get a new stand. After that, the tree stood up, but we were actually thinking about going artificial after all the trauma, until my Mom walked in and said, “Oh, your tree smells so good!”. Mission accomplished! We went with the photo collage as recommended on this site because we didn’t have one good picture of all of us. My 18 year old daughter arranged it on Christmas eve and we picked it up at Walgreen’s on the way to our relatives. You couldn’t tell that my son was frowning in one picture because it was so small. I did enclose a short letter, which mostly referred back to the pictures to explain where we were, what we were doing. I think everyone knows that no family is perfect, we are just striving to be holy and falling as far short as our Christmas tree!
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