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Memories of Christmas are many but, for me, one memory of Christmas stands clear.

“Ready to go get the Christmas tree?” Daddy would say.

I had been waiting in my blue jeans, flannel shirt and boots before the sun came up to go get our Christmas tree.

I had the axe waiting, too.

Usually, I would ride in the truck cab but, when we hunting cedar Christmas trees, I was in the tuck “bed” with my eagle eyes open wide.

Daddy would slow the truck and I’d shake my head, “no.” Our cedar Christmas tree had to be the prettiest one of them all.

All of a sudden, I would see our Christmas tree. Daddy would stop the truck and chop down the prettiest Christmas I had ever seen, toss it in the back of truck and I would ride all the way home and never take my eyes of our cedar Christmas tree.

Daddy would put on the lights. The first decoration we put on our tree and, on at the very top, was the angel. That very top, then the string lights – some bubbled, some just beautiful. Right then, our Christmas tree was pretty enough for me, but Mama said we needed wrap the tree in gold and silver garland around the tree before we hung the ice cycles, thousands of them, on our Christmas tree.  Mama was right. The ice cycles made our Christmas tree even more beautiful.

Time slowly changed. We stopped going to cut down our Christmas. Instead, we went to the Christmas tree lot. But that was not fun like going to the woods to cut down our Christmas tree.

In the year, 2024, there are still tree lots in big cities and, in big box stores. However those weren’t picked out by little girls in the bed of a pickup truck and cut down by their daddies with axes.

Mr. Grover Poole and I ofter shared stories of by-gone days and we both had fond memories of going to cut down the Christmas.

Each fall, Mr. Grover would bring me two gallons of fresh-squeezed cane juice, complements of Mr. Grover and Donna Gale, who “ran” his can mill. That became a tradition.

Then one cold, winter day, Mr. Grover came by work and asked, “How would you like a cup of cane juice and then go with me and Molen and Donna Gale to the woods on the wagon to cut down our Christmas tree?

Tears came to my eyes.

There is no way to describe the experience of, once again, going to the woods to cut down the Christmas tree. It was an experience I’ll always remember.

I was blessed to go to the woods several more times to cut down the Christmas tree.

Another time, we rode that wagon deep into the woods with cowboys on horses to cut down their Christmas tree. What a memorable experience that was.

I’ll always remember Mr. Grover Poole who got me addicted to cane juice and gave me opportunities, to once again, go deep into the woods to cut a Christmas tree.