A few weeks ago, the Boy Scouts came to the front door with an elaborate order form for Christmas wreathes. Feeling a little Christmas militant, I looked down the list to find a really “Jesus” style wreath. Finding the “Cross” wreath (evergreen branch stuff shaped like a cross), I felt like I had made my point. Take that, hyper commercialization. Take that, Santa and your bag full of toys.
Earlier this week, the wreath arrived. By now, my aggressive “Jesus is the Reason for the Season” feelings had mellowed and I looked at the cross wreath with a bit of regret. It looked sort of odd and oversized. Not the Boys Scouts fault, it was all on me. Just too much Easter in that Christmas decoration. Ugh.
The top of our garage has a single hook way up high. I could envision the previous owner hanging a lovely Christmas wreath from that hook. Since the cross wreath was too tall for our front door, I figured I would give the wreath a try over the garage. A second chance for the Easter wreath. A rebirth, perhaps? How appropriate.
As I ascended the ladder to hang the cross wreath, I soon discovered how high the hook was perched. Going close to the top of the ladder, I hoisted the unwieldy wreath toward Heaven. Fail. Next try, fail. Third try, fail. I inserted a zip tie around the wreath and tried again. Success! I went to bed sort of pleased.
In the morning light, I viewed my handiwork. The wreath was still attached to its garage top Calvary, but this morning it drooped. The portion of above the zip tie seemed to be bowing down. Much more funeral home arrangement, as opposed to glorious Christmas wreath. Ugly. Bah humbug. Excuse me, does the Grinch live here?
Down the street, our neighbor’s Christmas lights glowed a bright red and green. So celebratory. So seasonal. Our house, with its single strand of lights and out-of-season droopy cross wreath, looked sort of sad. You could hear them saying, “Well, bless their souls. They appear to be trying.” Yes, we were trying and failing. Perhaps, they just thought we had our seasons mixed up and we were decorating early for Easter. The shame of the neighborhood, a pimple on the shimmer of Christmas.
Oh, Jesus may be the Reason for the Season, but its time for me to calm down a little and enjoy X-mas. No more saggy cross wreaths for me. Traditional circles of evergreen from this point foward. Ho, ho, ho. ‘Tis the season to be jolly.