We have a tree at Chez Cheese that we have used since 1986--that's two years after our little family was legally established (Dec 22, 1984.) Our first Christmas, we were honeymooning (and not exactly into trees if you get my drift) and our second we experimented with killing a real tree. But in 1986 we were newly pregnant, and we went shopping for an artificial tree--one our landlord would approve of.

So we got this tree. It was quite a spendy purchase for us that year. We bought near the top-of-the-line that this store carried. I imagined that we would use it for a few years, until we no longer had toddlers running around, then we would get another real tree.

Our tree has traveled across the country twice. The box it came in has been re-built, fortified, strengthened with new corners, and taped up. The tree, frankly,has out lived its container. The little strips of tape around the ends of the branches that color-codes them for assembly are mostly rubbed off; we can put the tree together by feel now.

There was talk at my husband's family's Thanksgiving table about how the newer, pre-lighted, modern artificial trees are so much easier to use: no strings of lights to untangle every year, you just unfold it and boom! Instant holiday cheer! We briefly, *briefly* discussed getting one of these new trees.

But I like our old one. It has served us well. There were years, when we lived in very cramped quarters in seminary that we had to modify that tree to make it fit in some pretty tight spaces. A couple of those seminary years we literally built it around a wall that was jutting out between the kitchen and the living room. It was simple: we just left off the branches onthat side of the tree.

Now we have a bigger house, and plenty of room for a tree that is even bigger. The tree we have is not spectacular, or particularly glamorous. It holds a rather eclectic bunch of ornaments. We even finally retired some ornaments this year--deeming them...ahem..."keepsakes" to be kept in the boxes until we move next, or purge next, or get the cleaning bug next, or until a grandbaby needs to hear the story of our old tree and the macaroni ornaments that used to adorn it.