I didn’t think we’d have a Christmas tree this year. I didn’t think we could find room for one in our small living room, this jam-packed space that serves as gathering place, art studio, library, entryway, office, toy depository, and so much more.
But when Jake heard me say so, he replied, “Yes, we will. Of course we’ll have a Christmas tree.” Done and done. Simple as that.
So we rearranged. We moved things here and there and back again. It took an entire evening (which perhaps may have been better spent baking some birthday cupcakes). And it meant removing some things to the basement. But we did it. We made room for that tree.
And all the while we were working, I was thinking about how I so often struggle to fully inhabit this space — this temporary rented apartment that I’m sometimes reluctant to call home. And how blessed I am to have a husband who can see things from another angle — literally and figuratively. He can help me see that the big bookshelf really would look better in that corner. And that this place is good enough for us right now. And that if we take some time to rearrange our home and our hearts, we can make room for things that matter.
I’m so glad that tree is up. It’s not the real tree that I dream about having … it’s just our old artificial 3-foot tree with lights pre-strung. But to Adeline it is pure magic. And Bea is mesmerized by its glow. It’s a place to put Adeline’s dancing ballerina mouse ornament that she got at The Nutcracker performance, and to hang the sparkly popsicle stick thing she made at storytime. We can stash our growing stack of Christmas books underneath it.
It’s not the most important thing. But I’m glad it’s here.