Meditation on a Christmas Tree

By: Megan Cramer

Deepak Chopra would be proud (I’m nothing if not a teacher’s pet…). 

My meditation began purely: tree lit, Netflix fireplace ablaze, Alexa providing peaceful music, “Forest” candle aromatically wafting. I stared at the Christmas tree in silence for 15 minutes, studying the quality of light, the bristly branches, the individual ornaments with all their respective stories of origin. 

But then Chris Cuomo butted in, needing to share some news… and then a few emails needed responses… “Warnock Your Ossoff!!”… my feet got cold and I had to pee. 

The tree would have to wait for tomorrow’s meager re-attempt at self-actualization.

Bubble Lights

By: Lauren Spagnoletti

There was a magic to it. The tree was so green. When the room lights went out, the bubble lights on the tree were particularly bright. (What were they filled with? And considering it was the 80s, were they even safe?)

My mother would spray a Christmas-scented room spray from Crabtree & Evelyn. (Christmas decidedly has a scent.)

My father would blast Christmas music from our stereo. If my mother had her way, it was Mannheim Steamroller.

There is a sadness about it all now. Those memories are a flash back to a time before it all crashed and burned.

They Stood

By: Ed Dzitko

They stood, the three of them, staring at the stump.

“It’s a shame we’re going to have such a lovely tree, and we’re leaving this where it used to be alive,” one of them said.

“A moment of silence,” said another. And they stood, longer and quiet, the sun casting a long shadow amid their legs.

I saw one brush a tear from her cheek. I watched longer, as they stood longer.

“Time to go girls,” their Dad yelled. I could hear the collective sigh.

“OK,” said the one who hadn’t spoken yet. And off they went, home to decorate.

The Stand-Off

By: Lauren Spagnoletti

We had been dating just a month. It was getting serious, and important elements of life kept creeping into our conversations.

At lunch, he joked that maybe I could convert to Judaism. I laughed. He wasn’t joking.

He said he would never, ever want a Christmas tree in his house. He didn’t understand why anyone would want such a huge piece of the outside to be inside their home.

I probably looked horrified at the suggestion that I never have a tree again.

We married about a year later. And he carried the huge tree four blocks to our apartment.

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