Evergreens line the dusty path. Tall and full and stretching they stand, taking my eyes from the dirt that clouds around my feet and soils my white shoes. Caleb, with all the wisdom and wonder of seven years, exclaims that there’s Christmas trees all around. And I can’t help but smile a smile that soon turns serious (as it always does when a thought takes hold). Christmas is a time of wonder, of joy and amazement at the Savior’s arrival. God wrapping himself in human flesh and entering humbly as the most helpless of us all. How strange, how wonderful.
Here we are, with “Christmas trees” all around, blanketing the slopes like a carpet that never meets an edge or corner. They point upwards and outwards, tilting my face heavenward with lifted branches and trunk, and beckoning me to breathe deeply and fully their fragrance. Like fingerprints they stain the mountain sides – shouting their strange melody and whispering words of wonder and wisdom in my ears.
Christmas trees indeed.
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