Oh Christmas Tree, Oh Christmas tree ...

How lovely are thy branches! Even more lovely, the lights they string around your furry arms, and the ornaments that make you stick out in all your seasonal splendor. The rotunda is much more interesting with you there to fill the halls with the fragrance of pine, and sparkle with light when the sun goes down. I can't help but think of excuses for walking by to drink up your magnificent presence... and wonder at the journey you took to get here.

.read the story of the Capitol Christmas tree here.


The Christmas Tree is an ancient and wonderful tradition here in America. That wasn't always the case... it took Hessian Soldiers, war, and Queen Victoria to turn the branches of the evergreen into an American staple. Even Martin Luther had a hand in perpetuating our modern tradition.

Legend has it, late one winter evening, Martin marveled at the beauty of the stars sparkling through the trees on his walk home. Excited about the beauty of God's unique creation, he went home and placed candles on the Christmas tree to recreate what he saw for his young children. The flickering flames danced like the stars in the sky on the end of each evergreen branch.

What began as nothing more than a Druid superstition ( Who used holly and mistletoe as symbols of eternal life, and placed evergreen branches over doors to keep away evil spirits.) became St. Boniface's tool for teaching the Trinity, and then Martin Luther's canvas for re-painting the beauty of the night sky. I can't help but think that when Luther lit up the tree, he was thinking of that one, great star. The star that lit up the way to the Christ child, born in a manger.

Now, it is for Him that we light the tree, give gifts (even as the magi did), and sing heralds of His birth. He is the Messiah ~ Emmanuel, God with us.

Merry Christmas.

>Snowflakes<

Out of the bosom of the Air,
Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
Silent, and soft, and slow
Descends the snow.

Even as our cloudy fancies take
Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
In the white countenance confession,
The troubled sky reveals
The grief it feels.

This is the poem of the air,
Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
Now whispered and revealed
To wood and field.
 ~ H.W. Longfellow

This is in honor of the snow dump that we received this past week ~ 10-12" in Lincoln, Nebraska! The drifts are nearly 6' high, and the egress windows are storing the surplus snow below the ground. Yesterday as I peeked out the frosty window, a bright red Cardinal perched on a nearby birch tree.

What could be more lovely?

What could be a more perfect way to welcome Winter and all the cheer of Christmas?