Christmases Past

Christmas is always a special time of year for me. And while, I love spending time with my little family, it’s also a time that I miss the family I grew up in (they all grew up and moved away!). So in memory of Christmases past, I thought I would share my favorite Christmas story from when I was growing up.


Every year, our family tradition, was to go to a Christmas tree farm and cut down our own Christmas tree. I loved being out in the hills, and the smell of the fresh trees all around. Each year we would pretend to be “lost in the forest” (although it is harder to get lost when all of the trees are planted in nice straight rows!) Each year we would pick the perfect tree, watch my father cut it down, and bungee cord it to the top of our minivan. And each year, one of my sisters, Kelly, would hate the tree we picked. That’s right every year……no matter what. It was never the tree that she wanted and it was always the saddest thing in the world to her.

One Christmas, my parents decided that this was one tradition that needed to change. Looking back, I’m sure they were tired of the inevitable crying and complaining on the way home. This year was going to be different, this year, whatever tree Kelly picked we were going to like…..no matter what. This was Kelly’s year, and if she picked a three that was two-and-a-half feet tall and brown, we were going to like it.

Off we went to our regular Christmas tree farm. All seven kids tumbled out of the minivan and off we went to find the perfect tree. Kelly took her time finding one that was just right. When she did, true to instructions, the rest of us agreed that it was the perfect tree.

We should have known when it took longer than normal to cut it down. We also should have known when we trimmed it again at home (in preparation of putting it in the tree holder) and found that about two inches above the original cut, the tree separated into two trunks – not the best configuration for fitting it into the holder. We finally got it all situated, sprayed it with the hose to remove any bugs and left it overnight. The next evening when we brought it in the house to decorate, someone noticed a ladybug.

Then, we noticed another and another. Turns out the entire trunk was covered with a living mass of ladybugs! We spent the next two weeks removing lady bugs from the tree, and the furniture, and the drapes, various guests and the house in general. Don’t get me wrong, ladybugs are cute, just not in the quantities were finding. It was months before we stopped finding little ladybugs in tiny nooks and crannies.

This year was, of course, known forever after as The Ladybug Christmas. It has now become enshrined in Parry Family Folklore and is one of the favorite stories told every Christmas. Even Kelly think s it’s funny now!