I love hanging the ornaments on the tree. Over the years, we have quite the collection. We add a new ornament to commemorate the year, which gives me time for reflection. There is a purple snowman, expertly colored by a certain grandboy, and there is a carousal pony made by my grandmother. Some ornaments are bright and shiny. Some are over half a century old, tired but true. I remember with great fondness the ornaments that came from friends and family. There are no random ornaments on my tree; each has a story, a connection, a bit of love.
The Christmas tree celebrates family and love. Its branches display iconic Christmas, reminding us of the birth of a baby, born to save the world. The baby's life is bookended with trees.
But the first one means nothing without the last.
Happy Birthday, Jesus!