Paper Hopes

Today, amid an unexpected snowstorm,  slippery roads, a cranky waitress and other day to day detritus I noted I was beginning to feel just the slightest bit cranky. Nothing intense or overt. Emotional diaper rash would best describe the pathway my mood was taking. The grapes at my first grocery stop were moldy, the bank computer was sluggish. The diaper rash-ness intensified. Sigh. Several stops later, I was at the last errand of my day, Walmart. Entering the store, wobbly wheeled snow cover cart (two additional annoyances) in hand  it caught my eye. It was sad. It was forlorn. Just shy of forsaken. A tiny little artificial tree. It's branches were filled with less-than-perfectly-cut pieces of paper. Intended to be rectangles, many were versions of rectangles. Hung by ribbons. 

Cranky or not there was something about that tree. Those clumsily cut pieces of paper. It was a vision of imperfection. It struck me as I viewed that quasi tragic little tree that the heartfelt honest imperfectness - the humanity it proudly (even defiantly) exuded is what I've missed most about christmas for a long time. I couldn't walk by it....  It wouldn't let me.

I turned over the first beribboned paper to read the request.
In printed hand it said, simply, soap.
I turned over another tag and found, again, one word.  Deodorant.
I turned over another.
In beautiful scripted handwriting, just one word filled the space - toothpaste.
I turned over the next. A child had printed - a shirt. Any color. Any kind.
I couldn't stop turning and reading tags....
The next asked for a toothbrush. Underneath in smaller letters it said toothpaste too? 
I turned over the next revealing this wish - a comb.

 I think I stopped breathing for a moment.
I think my heart stopped for a second. Or two.
I know I felt embarrassed at my irritation over the falling snow
(snow falling on my heated home)
I know I felt absurdly foolish to have been annoyed with the waitress
(while eating my lunch out)
Like a shock of electric current it occurred to me how fortunate I am.
I hardly think about having all the things on those tags.
I hardly think of many other comforts in my life
I have never been cold, hungry, dirty, unclothed.
I have never longed for a comb, deodorant, toothbrush, or toothpaste too?
(as tho asking for a toothbrush AND toothpasste was an excessive request)
I have never had to contemplate how hard it would be to ask for those things, if needed

I'm a fairly no-nonsense, non-weepy person by nature.
But I found it growing difficult to read those little pieces of paper hope bleary eyed
I gathered as many of those beribboned odd shaped tags as my budget could cover
Next week I'm heading back to that tree again to gather and fill more wishes

I found a whole new meaning in the holidays today.
In a Walmart.
Hanging on the branches of a bent up fake tree.

Life is full of surprises.
And lessons.
And Paper Hopes

FDFerris copyright 2010

A Holiday Confession

As a kid it was hard for me to let go of the idea of Santa. And the flying reindeer. A reality check that eventually had to be cashed.  Time goes by and perceptions change.

Now here I am letting go of another holiday fallacy idea. I'm admitting in writing that I don't adore complex, time intensive holiday preparation.   The look and outcome - yes! But the fiddley fussing, not so much.  I know... (insert image of me hanging my head for a micro moment) this admission is terribly un-matha (perhaps even un-female, lol).

I can't confess share all my shortcuts at once (I do have some estrogen based pride, lol) But I will admit to my first get the look without the fuss trick. Hold on to your pantyhose. Sit down perhaps. Ready? I NEVER undecorate my little fake alpine tree. Yes, fake tree. Never undecorated.  Just breathe. Honest it's not as horrible as it may at first seem.

On Jan 2 or so each year my little tree (which looks astoundingly similar to the one in the image) is loving, carefully draped and wrapped in a sheet of filmy plastic (the kind used as a drop cloth for  painting). Lights, tinsel, ornaments all intact. Away into storage he goes. Once or twice thru the year I see him, say hello to him as I pass by for other things that live in storage.  He doesn't seem to mind at all.

For my part it's wonderful not to have to find and upack all the lights, ornaments every year. I enjoy not having to place the lights on the tree from scratch each year. I do switch off an ornament or two as I like which is fun and veryyyy quick.  To me it looks just as pretty when it's done (outcome vs process remember, lol).

The bonus is that the time saved since I've approached the tree in this oh-so-un-martha-way is that I now have time to string lights on trees outside if I like. Or bake cookies (bad for my butt but wonderful for the holiday mood! :-)   

Embracing my short cut to holiday outcome self (like admitting there was no Santa) changed the hoilday a bit of course. But for the better. For me there's more enjoyment not less. All I had to do was get past the previous expectation(s)!

I wonder if I'm the only one with holiday short cut confessions I mean tips? lol