Memories In Lights

Writen by Kenneth C. Hoffman

Christmas in the old country

Tramping through the snow

To choose the young tree

Which overnight would change our home;

The old made new wherever candlelight shone.

Spice of balsam decorates the air,

The hand carved Christ Child

Placed gently there.

Baskets of holly, mistletoe and herbs

A discovered nest remains undisturbed.

So many white candles blazing on faces,

A wonderful sight to hold our gazes.

The delight of giving warms our cheeks;

Loving goodnights and last minute peeks.

Historians tell us that the indoor Christmas tree tradition came from England or Germany. The first lights came in the form of candles placed on its branches. One theory has the candles representing the light spaces between the branches shining with the light of the morning sun. Another sees the candles as heavenly stars. I just know that the lighted Christmas tree brings to my mind warm feelings of family and good will.

My wife, Marianne, remembers placing candles on the Christmas tree in Germany and although they remained lit for only a short, watchful period, the sight remains indelible on her mind. Our first set of lights was inherited from my Grandparents who bought them in the thirties. The original string contained twenty large sized bulbs in various shapes and colors representing the moon, stars and candles. Through the years, the bulbs were gradually replaced with the standard candle variety. A second set of twenty five bulbs was added in nineteen forty. These smaller bulbs unfortunately were series wound, the whole string blinking out when one bulb gave up the ghost and making it difficult to find the culprit. They lasted for twenty five years.

Sometime in the fifties, miniature string sets arrived from Japan, quickly gaining in popularity. The sheer numbers of bulbs awed us, making it easy to wind two hundred lights on one tree. Our Irish dad insisted on colored lights and even sneaked in a blinker for variety. My German mother preferred white lights, but bowed to the Irish side, stopping short of blinking lights. When Dad's parents moved to an apartment, they opted for a table top tree in white, festooned with all blue lights and dripping with meticulously hung aluminum icicles. Further adorning the tree, delicate reproductions in spun glass representing ships in full sail, angels, stars and toys shimmered in reflective splendor. We weren't allowed within three feet of it.

Nowadays there are Christmas trees lit with whiskers of fire, the light pulsing in tune to an imagined beat. Stylized columns of green paper mache wound in ropes of twinkling stars, satisfying the Andy Warhol in us. Through the plenitude of variations runs the always present theme of lights on a tree. In our own family, the lights held us together through brief separations, financial disaster and family disagreements. The lights on the tree provided a focus for togetherness and a palpable visual aid in the celebration of Christmas.

I love to answer questions. Now a retired portrait photographer, I love to write.