Mother Nature's Christmas Surprise

Angel from the top of our Seaboard tree 

 Growing up, our Christmas season officially began when I went with my parents out to the farm in search of the perfect Christmas Tree. To qualify as "perfect" there were only a few criteria. It must be a cedar tree. It must be tall enjough that it was challenging to add the angel on top yet not tall enough to touch the ceiling. And it had to be light enough for Dad to carry easily. 

So while our trees weren't majestic, they did fill the house with the sweetest aroma imaginable. One I remember vividly each time I open the small Lane Keepsake box I was given as a high school senior. Or the full size Lane Chest I bought as a young professional because of how much I loved my Lane Keepsake box. Excellent marketing. But I digress. 

We decorated our trees with Shiny Brite glass ornaments and heaped it with tinsel. We strung it with Christmas lights with large multicolorbulbs that likely weighed more than the tree. Underneath went white cotton in which were nestled cardboard houses and a  cardboard church. The small undertree town was contained by a small red and green fence.. Every year was the same and we welcomed our decorations out of their boxes like old friends come to stay a bit. 

Part of our Christmas tradition was hosting my Dad's mother, lovingly call "Mom" by everyone. She was a tiny little thing who could easily walk under my Dad's outstreched arm. She was a beloved part of the family and I was always astonished at her keen ability to crochet and watch soap operas at the same time. 

Mom wiht Zack, 1990 

So a visit from Mom was a clear indicator that it was almost time for a visit from the guy in the red suit.  But I never once thought about what it was like for my mother. Now that I've had my own mother-in-law, I realize that even in the best of circumstances, they can add stress. I'm sure my mother worked diligently to have everything perfect. Christmas tablecloth on the table, Christmas aprons and potholder ready for use, running cedar along the mantelpiece, electric candles in the window and beautifully wrapped gifts beneath the tree. There was a date nut cake in the kitchen, ambrosia in the fridge, and cookies in their tins. It was alot. And Mama did it all.  She wanted to make Daddy proud. 

One winter it was particularly cold and due to the oil and gas crisis, Buck Stove fireplace inserts had become a big thing. We had one installed and our usually chilly front room was so cozy that I often eschewed the promise of TV in the den to read in cozy peace in a room half illuminated by colorful Christmas lights. 

That particular Christmas we gathered as a family in the living room. To my mother's dismay she saw something small and black move in Mom's white wig. A small insect? In December? Soon she spotted another black bug on the white sheer of the window treatment. And then another, and another. I remember looking up at the ceiling and seeing what looked like hundreds of black dots. What on earth? 

The first order of business was to get the bug out of Mom's wig, which was quickly and dutifully done. Only then, with bug in hand, did Mom realize it was a tiny praying mantis! A quick inventory of the inner branches of the tree revealed a small pod shaped nest, which when warmed by the nearby Buck Stove, had begun to hatch. 

To me, it was a curiousity, but to my mother, it must have been a horror. There was her Mother-in-Law in our beauitfully turned out home with a wig full of baby praying mantises! A Christms to remember! 

I don't recall the exact details of the chaos that ensued, but I'm quite sure Mom retired to the guest bedroom while the rest of us  tried to relocate the intruders. Mom's recollection was that we enticed them to leave out our side door, though I'm guessing quiet a few were dispatched in the process. 

Order was restored, Christmas proceeded as planned. No date nut cake was lost. And we had a new story to add to the family canon. Also a bit of a life lesson not to get too hung up on perfection, because sometimes Mother Nature has other plans.

 This story became one of my mother's favorite Christmas stories. I have heard her tell it  many times. If you'd like to hear her brief retelling recorded in 2019, click here and enjoy!

May your Christmas be merry and bright!    And free of all intruders!