by Cianna Reider
The happiest Christmas memory I have is from the year I moved in with my aunt and uncle. They usually put up a white stick pre-lit tree in the Dining Room. While we were in the basement getting it, I noticed this huge box in the corner. It was an artificial tree, a nine-foot Norwegian, to be exact. I talked them into putting it up. The "tree" was nothing more than a box of color-coded branches, and because it was old, some of the color-coding had worn off, so we had to guess. It took hours to just get the tree up and when we were done, it's not so perfect shape led everyone to believe it was real!
Because of it's height, it only would fit in the the middle of the great room. We put strings and strings of lights on it and still had to go out and buy more. Then we brought up boxes of ornaments and my aunt had a story for each one of her special ones; where and when they bought it on vacation, or who gave it to her. She also had many of the handmade ones I made for her as a little girl. We had Christmas music playing in the background and hot chocolate and cookies. It was a full day.
By the way, you might know my aunt. Her name is Carol Ann Kauffman.