Silver Branches, Simple Joys

Back in the early 1960s, when we’d visit my grandparents at Christmastime, the magic of the holiday seemed to fit perfectly inside their tiny two-bedroom house. The living room was small—just enough space for a sofa, a lamp, and their Christmas tree—but to us children, it felt like stepping into a wonderland.

Their tree wasn’t the kind you’d find fresh from the forest. It was an aluminum tree, shiny and silver, with branches that sparkled like tinsel under the dim light of the room. At its base sat a color wheel—one of those fascinating contraptions that slowly turned, casting shades of red, blue, green, and yellow across the tree’s shimmering limbs. My brother, sister, and I would sit cross-legged on the floor, completely mesmerized by the changing colors. We’d whisper to each other which hue was our favorite, as if our words might interrupt the enchantment of the moment.

I know there were ornaments on that tree, but for the life of me, I can’t recall a single one. The silver glow of the branches and the soft swirl of the color wheel were all that captured my attention. There were no stockings hanging on the wall, no piles of gifts tucked beneath the tree. I can’t even remember opening a single present there. Maybe there weren’t any. My grandparents didn’t have much, but somehow, it didn’t feel like anything was missing.

What I do remember is the warmth—the kind that came from love, not from money or presents. I remember the faint hum of the color wheel’s motor, the smell of something sweet coming from the kitchen, and the simple joy of being together. There was always a candy cane or two, those old-fashioned ones that seemed sweeter back then. Maybe that was the only gift, but it was enough.

If I close my eyes, I can still see that aluminum tree shimmering in its rainbow glow, and I’m reminded that Christmas has never really been about the things we receive, but about the light that shines from the love we share.

Heavenly Father,
Thank You for the simple joys that fill our hearts this Christmas and every day. Thank You for memories of love that outshine even the brightest decorations. Help us remember that the greatest gifts are not wrapped in paper or placed under trees, but are found in the warmth of family, the laughter of children, and the peace that comes from Your presence. May we carry that light with us, just as the color wheel once bathed that little aluminum tree in beauty. In Jesus’ name, amen.