Red Writing Hood: Dreams

Elle crouched at the base of a massive tree that was all decked out with lights and decorations. The smell of freshly cut pine filled her senses, reminding her of winter and tramping through the woods to cut firewood. She had never in her life seen a tree decorated like this. The lights twinkled merrily and the multitude of ornamental globes, figures, and bells glittered. She reached out a tentative finger to gently stroke the branches. The needles were soft yet sharp at the same time. A sudden voice caused her to jump.

“It’s a big tree, huh?”

Elle turned to see a small boy, about her own age, standing behind her. His cheeks were rosy from the cold and his hat was pulled low on his forehead almost completely covering his eyes. She smiled shyly.

“I’ve never seen one decorated like this before. Most of the trees I see that are this big are in the forest where I live.”

The boy frowned and shoved his hat up so he could get a better look at her.

“You’ve never seen a Christmas tree?” He asked incredulously. Elle blushed; embarrassed that she said something wrong.

“I’ve never heard of a Christmas tree. It’s very pretty, “she mumbled and turned back to gaze at the tree. Silently she wished the boy would go away. Her wish wasn’t granted.

“Never heard of a Christmas tree??!! Are you Muslim or something?”

“No, “Elle said, suddenly defiant. “My daddy doesn’t celebrate it so I don’t. We don’t celebrate anything. Usually we are away from home during December and January.”

“Oh…do you even know what Christmas is? I mean, if you’ve never heard of a Christmas tree…”

Elle blushed again. She didn’t want to appear stupid in front of a perfect stranger by admitting she didn’t know something but she was also curious about this whole ‘Christmas’ thing now. She glanced over the boy’s shoulder towards her father. He was still deep in conversation with whomever he had to meet. She figured she had time to hear what the boy had to say.

“No, I don’t. Can you tell me?”

The boy’s eyes went as round as saucers and his mouth dropped open slightly.

“Never heard of Christmas, “He whispered, amazed. “But you’re white! There is a boy in my class from Iran and he never heard of Christmas either but…”

Elle began to get annoyed. She stamped her foot angrily.

“Are you going to tell me or not? My daddy could be done any minute and then I’ll have to go.” She paused and then whispered quickly, “I really want to know. Please?”

He smiled and sat down on the floor. Elle lowered herself down and sat next to him.

“Okay, so Christmas is a huge holiday where you decorate a tree, hang stockings on your fireplace, and eat lots of treats. Like candy canes. Oh and decorate a gingerbread house! Everyone buys presents and if you are really good Santa Claus comes to your house on Christmas Eve and leaves you really special presents under the tree. I think my parents told me it has to do with a baby being born on Christmas day too but I can’t really remember. Oh, and your family gets together for a HUGE dinner with a turkey or a ham and lots of potatoes and carrots and pumpkin pie!”

Elle watched the boy get more and more animated as he explained about Christmas. She thought he might actually start drooling as he talked about the food. She wondered why her father had never celebrated this holiday. The thought of eating a big dinner with family sounded especially appealing. Elle didn’t know of any family besides her father. She would have loved to have more people in her life to love.

“How come you decorate a tree? Shouldn’t trees be left outside for the birds and animals?”

“I dunno, “the boy shrugged. “We just do. My mom says it’s tradi…tradi…tradition! Yeah, that’s it. A tradition. “

“Hmmmmm.” Elle turned to look back at the tree, gazing longingly at the beautiful crystals, the jewel encrusted orbs, and the ropes of silver entwined around the branches. She reached out and touched a silver ornament with red jewels and pearls. It swung gently as she stroked it, the satiny piece of ribbon sliding with a subtle *swoosh* through the eyelet at the top. It was possibly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.

“Elle!”

She snapped out of her daydream and looked up to see her father standing over her. He glanced at the boy sitting on the ground beside her before turning a questioning look on her.

“I have to go, “ she said, getting up. “Thanks for telling me about Christmas.”

“Sure.” The boy watched her walk away and then wandered to the other side of the tree. Elle stole a single glance back at the magnificent tree before following her father out of the building.

“Daddy?” she asked as they climbed into the old pickup truck parked down the street.

“Yes, Elle?”

“How come we don’t celebrate Christmas? It looks like a lot of fun. The boy was telling me about the most amazing traditions. Decorating trees, and giving presents and having a wonderful dinner with family. Can we do that too, Daddy?”

Elle looked at her father as he watched her through the rearview mirror. His eyes visibly tightened and she thought he might start crying. Elle loved her father more than anything in the world and couldn’t stand the thought of him upset.

“I’m sorry, Daddy. Never mind. I don’t need Christmas. I have you.” She said quickly. Her father sighed quietly and smiled at his daughter.

“Do you know you are the best thing to ever happen to me, Elle? Someday, I’ll tell you all about Christmas. But not tonight, alright?”

Elle frowned. That didn’t make sense. She already knew about Christmas. The boy told her…didn’t he?

“Okay, Daddy”

Elle turned to stare out the window into the night. The swaying motion of the truck as it drove down the road lulled her into sleep. She dreamed of a smiling woman with long brown hair holding the ornament from the tree. She held it out to Elle and gestured to the tree. Elle smiled and hung the ornament on the highest branch she could reach.

It was tradition.

***

This post is part of the Red Writing Hood. This week they went a little easy on us, what with the holidays and all. Choose the word or the photo (or both) and write a piece, fiction or non-fiction.

The word is tradition. The photo is below. I chose both. You might recognize the character Elle. I’ve been writing about her in some other pieces. Slowly her story is taking shape. Want to read more (or refresh your memory)? Go here, here, here, and here