This Time of Year - Thinking of Trees

      Diane Mayr at Random Noodling hosts us on this Poetry Friday close to Christmas and in the midst of Chanukah. Happy Holidays to all who celebrate! I met Diane at NCTE years ago, but had the pleasure of spending lots more time with her at Highlights this past October!

       I've been writing in one way each day because I've taken the challenge by Mary Lee Hahn to write haiku for the hashtag #haikuforhealing that she began last December after the Presidential election. Some days I've written to a photo, thus a haiga instead. This week I may have broken a rule or more because my response was to three pictures, the three stages of decorating my Christmas tree. 

click to enlarge

waiting,
enough? more?
ah-h-h
 Linda Baie ©All Rights

           My memories around Christmas tree decorating differ. They are funny, adventurous, even old from my childhood. It is one tradition I still keep, but without my husband, somewhat bittersweet. I remember the time we scraped our tree because we drove into the garage (HABIT) forgetting the tree (now trimmed) was on top! I remember wiring a tall tree to the wall because our cat took one look and leaped. There went the tree! I remember going through every ornament and creating a box of "their" ornaments for each of my grown children. 
          And, I remember going in a big flatbed truck into the country with a grandfather and many others to find the best tree to put up for the town where we gathered for a celebration as Santa arrived. The tree was always a large cedar and I was thrilled to go into the woods to search. However, watching the tree come down was a sad time, because the tree would no longer be there to grow. I don't remember if we read other poems too, but that is when my grandfather introduced me to this poem by e.e. cummings. This grandfather went to a local college after high school, one of those small ones where he took further studies. I don't think he graduated, just stopped to help run the family farm. 


         He was also an artist and had moved to town, farming only a little by the time I was growing up. I could say he is my "start" to the love of poetry, words, reading, writing. Yes, all of those. I'm not sure I had many personal children's books until later, but he read all kinds of things to me, some from what was called The Wonder Book, some Shakespeare, some The Wizard of Oz. He seemed to know just what I needed. I love this poem, for the sentiment and for the memory.

        And, serendipitously, when I worked at the bookstore today and helped with going through donations, one wonderful book that was given is this older Chris Raschka-illustrated book of Little Tree. It is new to me and quite wonderful as you can imagine with Raschka's color-filled pages and a sweet story about another "Little Tree". The Cummings poem is placed at the front of the book.




little tree
          e.e. cummings

little tree
little silent Christmas tree
you are so little
you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest
and were you very sorry to come away?
seei will comfort you
because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark
and hug you safe and tight
just as your mother would,
only don't be afraid

lookthe spangles
that sleep all the year in a dark box
dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,
the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms
and i'll give them all to you to hold.
every finger shall have its ring
and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you're quite dressed
you'll stand in the window for everyone to see
and how they'll stare!
oh but you'll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands
and looking up at our beautiful tree
we'll dance and sing
"Noel Noel"
             
         Wishing you peaceful and joyful times for the holidays wherever you are, whatever you celebrate.