Douglas, Balsam, Noble

We have always had a real Christmas tree. There is a joy to the ritual of bundling up, loading into the truck, and picking out the tree that will come home and become the heart of the season. One of the most magical things to experience around the holidays is spending time in the same room as that beautiful tree -- and every now and then, when you walk just the right way, or stand in the perfect spot -- it washes over you: the clean, grounding, undeniable smell of Christmas. 

There are certain smells that start of chain reaction of sensations, beyond what actually is. To me, the smell of pine is like a crisp winter morning. I swear I can breathe in the invigorating morning air if I close my eyes tight enough. If I keep my eyes shut, and see feelingly, I can go through time. I can transport to an evening by the fireplace. I can feel the dance between the cold, peaceful darkness outside and the warmth inside. It's like stepping up to a frosted window and feeling the shock of your fire-warmed fingertips on the icy glass. I can hear the crunch of branches on the ground and the squeak of snow as I take a walk outside with my family, gazing up at rich green branches set against the blindingly bright winter sky.

This year more than ever I need the magic of a Christmas tree. I may be spending as much time away from my home state as I ever have, but I'm also making a home where I am. As much as it hurts to feel a heart so split, to feel as if there are pieces missing and gaps in my favorite part of my story -- this beautiful, enchanting evergreen friend gives me the ability to find home anywhere. It unlocks memory upon happy memory -- it reminds me of feeling home.

That faith and hope shall ever bloom
To bring us light in winter’s gloom.
O Tannenbaum, O Tannenbaum,
You bear a joyful message

--English translation of O Tannenbaum