I wonder how many Christmas times these old logs have seen and how the people who dwelt within them celebrated? Did they bring in a tree to decorate? Did they string popcorn and cranberries, bake gingerbread cookies, and hang a pine bough wreath on the door? Did they delight in sharing little gifts with family and friends? Did they sing carols while savoring the warmth of a roaring fire in the hearth?
We decided that a real tree was too much of a fire hazard in the small confines of the cabin. But I love the little artificial one, never-the-less. It seems to fit right in and I’m quite sure it considers itself to be as grand as any tree that ever lived. I can tell by the way it twinkles and the jaunty way it holds the ornaments, even though its star is rusted tin.
Knowing the people of these mountains, I am sure that they treasured the season and celebrated the birth of the Savior. And like us, found great comfort and reassurance that the Christ Child came into the world to bring us “Peace and good will among men.”