Today’s guest post was written by J. Wayne Fears.
December brought a different kind of hunting to our little homestead on Tater Knob. As Christmas approached, I knew my parents would soon announce it was time to hunt for the perfect Christmas tree. It was referred to as “Tree Cutting Day” in our home, and we looked forward to it as much as the opening day of squirrel season.
If it were up to me, our Tree Cutting Day would probably have been in October. It was a fun, rural adventure and, most important, marked the start of the Christmas season. However, my mother knew just how quickly an Eastern red cedar would begin shedding needles once it was brought into the warm house. So, she had the honor of scheduling Tree Cutting Day each year, usually the first or second Saturday in December.
On the nights before these special days, the family would usually spend hours going through our meager Christmas decorations. After all, it took a lot of time to find and replace burned-out bulbs on strings of brightly colored lights. Time-worn foil icicles had to be untangled. Old colored balls needed their wire hangers to be reattached. Then we would tenderly and respectfully set up the manger scene that always had a sacred place under our tree.
Tree Cutting Days would always start with Mom briefing Dad and me about how big and full the year’s selection needed to be. She had a spot in the corner of the living room picked out, and the tree had to be “just the right one” for that location.
After breakfast, I would layer on my warmest clothing and watch with excitement as Dad got his double-barreled LeFever down from the rack and put on his well-worn hunting vest. Then he would signal me to follow him out the back door.
We would begin the day with a rabbit hunt in the rocky, hillside field that grew rabbits better than it did cotton. It would take us most of the morning to walk out the weedy row middles, sometimes jumping a rabbit, sometimes not. It was fun either way.
Noon would find us building a fire next to the spring that ran from beneath a large limestone rock between the cotton field and the cedar thicket we called the “Christmas Tree Field.” Once we had the fire going, Dad would boil us some fresh eggs in a molasses can, the same half-gallon can he used to boil water for my hot cocoa and his coffee. Mom would have made sure that we also had some ham and biscuits.
This was a special meal for me. Nothing fancy, just special because I was sharing this little adventure with a I man loved dearly. And we were enjoying the adventure together because of a woman that we both loved just as dearly.
After lunch, we headed over to the Christmas Tree Field, and began looking for “just the right one.” We wanted more than anything else to see Mom smile with approval when we dragged it up to the house.
Many times, the hunt for the chosen tree was delayed when we found a bird’s nest from the previous summer in a cedar. Dad would stop to remind me about the bird that called the tree home.
He knew so much about nature, and I soaked it all in. Tree Cutting Day would end when the year’s selection was delivered to our front doorstep for Mom’s inspection.
We would know that we had done well when she smiled and said, “I think Jesus will like this tree a lot.”
I hope you enjoy J. Wayne’s memories as much as I do!
Tipper
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Getting the Christmas Tree is so much like my childhood memory of Christmas. Daddy never went squirrel hunting but he was an avid groundhog hunter!
Before Christmas Mommy and my Aunt Pauline would scope out the road banks and wooded cow fields for the perfect Christmas tree. About two weeks before Christmas we would wrap up with overshoes, gloves, toboggans, heavy coats, and the all important hand saw. Mommy would be the tree locator and Aunt Pauline would pull the tree over. Then with all her might Mommy would saw the tree down being careful to get the trunk flat across the bottom. We would repeat the process for Aunt Pauline’s tree. The little Army of tree gatherers would drag the freshly cut treasures back to Grandpa and Grandma’s house so they would get first choice of which tree to put in their front room. Grandpa never let us decorate the tree. That was his job because he was afraid we would tear up his precious decorations he had used for years– lights, ornaments, and new iccicles (SP) from the dime store. Mommy would load up the remaining tree and handsaw in the car and we would go back to our house. She would always would nail a board across the bottom of the tree to hold it up. The board was always covered with wrapping paper.
She let us decorate the tree as we wanted usually with tinsel left over from years before. Sometimes we made paper decorations and sometimes she would whip up Tide Detergent as artificial snow for the tree. Each year was different except for one thing– we never had lights on the tree. She and Daddy were afraid the lights would catch the tree on fire. So the lights always went on the two hemlock shrubs on each side of the front porch steps. We always had to be careful and not put the lights to close to the ground. Smoky the dog would bite into the lights or pull off the lights from the tree if he could reach them. We never caught him doing the behavior just evidence of the event well after the fact. Mommy got the idea one year she would tie dog repellent to the tree she had gotten from
the hardware store in town. Now her lighted tree would look as nice as her friend’s lighted outdoor tree minute the dog’s ideas of how a tree should be decorated.
Smoky stopped “working on the lights” and started chewing on the dog repellent. Little by little all the repellent disappeared from the tree. When she discover the missing repellent, Mommy didn’t get mad but merely laughed at the poor dog. She told us that what else would you expect from a dog that enjoyed his family as much as Smoky did. Smoky lived a long and happy dog life on the farm. He passed away soon after I went to college. But, he will always be remembered for making my family’s life full of humor and surprise at Christmas. May he rest in peace. Kathy Patterson
What a beautiful, heartwarming story from Mr. Fears. I enjoyed it so much! My mother was the glue that kept Christmas alive in our home. She’s been gone since 2014 and I still feel an overwhelming sadness, especially at Christmas. I pray for all those who have lost loved ones, it’s a difficult time for many. Thank you Tipper for sharing these wonderful memories of family!
My sister in law Geneva died just a few minutes ago. Please pray for her sons Keith and Brian and their families.
Ed, I’m so sorry! I will pray for them.
Please accept my sympathies Ed. I will pray for them and you too.
Ed, I’m so very sorry for the loss of you precious sister. praying for your family to hold on to Jesus during this hard, hard time. Grammy from Texas
Mr. Ed, You have My deepest sympathies to your family for ya’ll’s loss. Praying God will comfort you all and bring you peace at this time. South Mississippi, Jennifer
What a beautiful story. From “more rabbits than cotton, Tater Knob, mom waiting at home to accept the precious Christmas tree. I love this time of year.
As always praying for Granny.
Oh Tipper…I really enjoyed this one ! Thank you for sharing this with us.
To me and the way I grew up hunting for a Christmas tree, if it’s not an eastern red cedar tree, it’s not a real Christmas tree. You might as well put up an artificial one. With an eastern red cedar tree, you can still smell the resin for days if not weeks after the tree is removed.
Because I clearly remember with fondness two years in my Kentucky 1950’s childhood cutting our Christmas tree in the woods, I was determined that my girls would also have that memory. What is called cedar in the Texas hill country is actually juniper. The two species have this in common: what looks like a perfect tree from 100 yards looks less and less perfect the closer you get! Nevertheless we picked the best we could find and dragged it home – no car needed. In a week of central heat, the tree was so dry and prickly it could serve as a self-defense weapon. Removing the decorations and lights required leather gloves to avoid bloodshed. My daughters are 50-something’s now and I am still waiting to hear them talk about how special that experience was … maybe after I’m gone.
Such a heartwarming story!!; I remember walking through the woods searching for that special cedar. Thank you Tipper!!; this brought back memories from my own childhood.
Thanks for sharing. ♥️
Beautiful memories indeed.
Beautiful story! I also remember mama saving the icicles from year to year and placing them one by one on the tree. It didn’t matter what kind it was, how large or small, when it was decorated it was just beautiful! Have a blessed day everyone!
Daddy kept all the cedar trees on our place cut down as best he could. Cedars carry a fungus that goes from them to apple trees and cause Cedar Apple Rust. It doesn’t effect cedar but the leaves and fruit of the apples grow little nodules on them that renders them worthless.
Daddy planted thousands upon thousands upon thousands of white pines on his property. As we all know white pines don’t make the best Christmas trees but with a multitude to pick through we always found a suitable one.
Ed, my uncle married a lady from Chattanooga. I remember being a young kid and her telling about using small pine trees – I guess 4-5 ft for their Christmas tree. I am sure the trees would be growing wild. Until hearing her, I thought everyone used eastern red cedar trees. Back then, I only knew of one person selling Christmas trees to city folks and they would be wild growing cedar trees, sad to say, knowing him, I expect many of them were trees he had stole off of other peoples property. Ok for me to say that, he was kin!
Love this because it’s about the love a family has for each other.
What a wonderful memory. And I love the ending where his mom says, ” I think Jesus will like this tree a lot. ” He is truly the reason for this season.
Such a wonderful story! One could ‘feel’ the love in that home while reading it. Thank you for sharing it, Tipper.
What a wonderful story!
Mom also saved icicles from year to year. They were usually a tangled mess, but they made some everlasting memories about what an old-time Christmas tree should look like. I decided to add icicles to my tree a few years ago as I tried to duplicate the trees from my childhood. What a mess they made after a few weeks of getting blown around by the woodstove blower. It’s been years since I’ve seen angel hair like we used to use for decoration. It was itchy, probably colored fiberglass, that made the bright bulbs take on an eerie glow.
I loved reading the cutting day stories! such sweet memories.
Such a wonderful story! I love to reminisce about the old days! Sometimes I wish we could go back just for a day and do the same traditions we used to do!
Hope you have a Blessed Day,!
Joanna
I can remember most of the older folks in our area when I was little always used cedar trees for their Christmas trees. They grew everywhere and were free. There was a spirit to Christmas back then that’s missing now.
Beautiful memory. We did it once as a family when my twins were around 10 (now 52) and their brother was 12 (now 54). Just last week I was talking with one of the twins and we laughed about our tree experience. I remembered driving home in a blinding snow storm with the back of our Pinto Station Wagon door open letting in. the gas fumes. My son remembers only the cold air and snow flying in through the open door. He didn’t laugh then but he laughs now. Wonderful memories! Merry Christmas and a blessed New Year.
Mr. Fears memories got me with “Tater” in Tater Knob. Made me suspect Cumberland Plateau country, my childhood home. The red cedar Christmas tree came next. That also was our ‘go to’ Christmas tree but we had to get down off the sandstone country and onto the limestone to find many of them. His mention of the spring under the limestone rock pretty well convinced me of where he grew up. Now I can’t rest till I find out for sure. Either way, I’m going to learn something. Meantime, I can almost smell that eastern red cedar. To this day, that smell says “Christmas” to me. (Also, as he hinted, do not put a red cedar tree in a room with carpet!)
Out of all the stories shared so far, I’d have to say this one here is the best! It touched on tradition and LOVE! Tipper, we can go around the world and invent great things, but LOVE is that glue holding all the world together. We love these stories because they are about family, memories, love, respect, having little in material things but great love and JESUS! At 60, I wish I knew then what I know now for I wasted years on what never mattered. I taste regret sometimes and it’s in those moments I’m determined to make the most of today and the future as I’m thankful for the life I have in Jesus and his abundance. My cup runneth over indeed! God bless you all and Merry Christmas in the King of Kings and Lord of Lords! This is the day our Lord has given us so let us rejoice and be glad in his provisions and shadow!
Good morning Tipper and fellow Acorns. It is 19F this morning. The snow is still on the ground. Mot of it will melt today when we expect temps in the upper 30’s. But the snow behind the house and up the north side of the hill will remain a good long while. The name “Tater Nob” made me think of a spot across the mountain in NC called Tater Hill. The description fits it exactly. Today it is a popular place to Hang Glide.
We never went tree hunting when I was little. Daddy brought our trees home or we had artificial ones. I don’t remember us having a tree on the years he was away at war in Korea and Vietnam. When we bought the house back here in NE TN Daddy sent money from Germany for 4 years for us to buy a live Colorado Blue Spruce and we were to have it planted in the yard so he could enjoy them when he came home on that 5th Christmas. I was in 10th grade that 5yh year and Daddy was home with us every year after that.
Daddy loved Christmas. He loved giving gifts and seeing people happy. I remember one year when we were at Fort Gordon, GA Daddy came home with an aluminum tree. It was stunning. Daddy bought a blue glass ball for every limb. I still dream of that tree. I was very sick that year and remember laying on the couch looking at the tree for hours. I was in the 4th grade that year.
I used to go all out decorating for the season. But since we moved into 644 sq ft it has been difficult. I tape a few cards on the wall beside the back door. I put a big red bow on the front door and my 2 ft wire tree with white lights and candy canes stands year round on the table beside my chair.
That is good enough. There are no little kids and that’s ok. My kid are my love and my life. I’m so blessed. I hope they feel blessed too. I hope they see in me and my life just how great GOD is thru the miracles HE has shown. I hope they treasure our greatest gift, The Messiah.
I keep you all in my prayers and I do pray without ceasing. I love Y’all.
For the ones that like today’s story by Mr. Fears, he has written two other books I have and have read several times with similar stories like this, the title of one is Buck and Wart. Right now, I can’t remember the title of the other, but it is stories of him and two childhood friends, one of them a girl that often times out did the boys.
My sister would get a tree on Thanksgiving day and decorate it. It would dry out and get replaced three or four times before Christmas. We had an open fireplace in the living room to provide heat for the whole six room house so they dried out pretty quickly. Mom would make her take it down on New Years Day. All over our neighborhood there are Christmas lights that have been up since Thanksgiving Day.
This is a sweet story of wonderful memories and all the ones from the comments as well.
Thank you for posting Mr, Fears heartwarming story. It made me smile this morning as I sip my cup of coffee. I wrote about the year my little brother went tree hunting by himself a few days ago. He and Daddy most usually went together though. They didn’t spend the day, as Mr. Fears and his daddy did, but they had an adventure just the same. My mama also saved the icicles from year to year. That was the one part of decorating she insisted on doing herself. She would carefully put one icicle on each limb until it was just perfect in her eyes…all sparkly and beautiful. I am missing my dad this morning, and the way things used to be.
Brenda, I know other members are “fed up” with me. Your last sentence rings so true for me, missing not only Daddy, but the other dearly loved family members and friends and wishing I could go back to the way it used to be is constantly on my mind. During last night, I dreamed several times of past times with my wife.
I have so many fond memories of searching the woods around my house looking for a cedar tree to decorate for Christmas. My grandfather and I always looked forward to harvesting our tree—we would trudge through the woods for what seemed like a few miles to cut a large tree and then drag it back to the house where my grandfather would trim it to just the right size for our Christmas tree…then, put it in the stand. My grandmother would use the scraps from the trimmed cedar tree to decorate all around the house and to make a wreath for the front and back doors. I haven’t had a live Christmas tree in so many years—I think I may go into town soon to shop for a small tabletop-sized tree just to smell it for a few days during the holidays!!!
What a wonderful story! The good old days were so much fun!
What a wonderful story. Back when we were little you could cut any tree you wanted from a neighbors field without even asking them. We kids all 7 of us would put several wholly pair of socks on our feet and tie diapers on our heads to go with momma and her hatchet to find that perfect white pine. It was usually found in G.R. Tipton’s our neighbors yard or back behind his house. We’d bring it home, put it in a butter churn cracked crock that had rocks in the bottom to help it stand up and then tie 2 strings in each corner of the living room. Decorations were meager to say the least, but when those Bubble Lights when on it was magical. I would lay there looking at those bubbles go up and down those glass balls for hours. Where has all that time gone? If you still have parents hold them as close as you were held as babies. Tell them how much you appreciate all the sacrifices and love them. Too soon they will be memories. Merry Christmas.
“Where has all that time gone? If you still have parents hold them as close as you were held as babies. Tell them how much you appreciate all the sacrifices and love them. Too soon they will be memories. Merry Christmas.” Well said, Drama. Beautiful. Memories are so bittersweet.
Several things in this story. We would always cut an Eastern red cedar tree from our property each year for our tree, now thinking back about it, I expect Daddy already had it picked out. My wife would talk about her and her other 4 sisters waiting up on their Daddy to get home from work late at night taking a flashlight and going out in their pasture and cutting them a cedar Christmas tree. Her Daddy often worked 80 hours or more a week, I have heard him talk about onetime working 32 straight hours before coming home from his cotton mill job. He was tough and didn’t think working like was hurting him, but paid for it later on in his life.
There were many cotton fields in my rural area, there was always plenty of rabbits along with bobwhite quail around these fields along with other non game birds and wildlife even though they had been sprayed during the growing season with “cotton dust” made with the poison DDT that has now been taken off the market. I know of many homes that have this cotton dust scattered on the ground under the homes to kill termites and other insects. I have never heard of anyone getting sick or dying from it. I heard an exterminator say these homes will never have a termite problem for many years and there is really no danger to the ones living in these homes.
One other thing, my Daddy had a small miniature fireplace grill made with old brick from a chimney and has a metal road to hang a metal coffee can on. He and my two young children ( his grandchildren) would boil eggs in the coffee can. Daddy has now been gone 33 years, my daughter has died, only my son left, but Daddy’s little grill is still there just like he made it. It is protected from being torn apart and a place of memories we have of him. I believe my son would do serious harm to anyone that would tear it up.
Beautiful memories. Thanks for sharing.
good morning, I remember getting cedar christmas trees, as a child, that was always the tradition, we managed to find some nice ones, I haven’t put up a tree this time, I have a little short plastic tree, I’ll call it my Charlie Brown Christmas tree, it’s two or three feet tall, maybe I will get it out closer to Christmas, God bless you friends and have a great day