My Mom and Dad’s family loved to tell Ghost Stories and scary stories at our holiday gatherings . I should add that being able to tell a story and own the room was a prized spot to hold in our family and it’s probably why I started to write. I had great people to learn the art from.

This is a story that my Grandfather told me about the origin of the Christmas Tree. I changed up a few things, but Grandpa Bert wouldn’t mind.

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We were standing in front of  my Grandpa Bert’s  sister’s aluminum Christmas Tree. It was decorated with blood red baubles and sitting on top of the tree was a gold  star trimmed with silver.

” That thing could take your head off if you threw it hard enough. ” My Grandpa Bert said. His voice was tinged with approval and smelled faintly of sherry.

He chuckled and put his sherry glass down on the mantle piece and went to the small treat table where there was a small platter of my Aunt Irene’s bourbon balls and he popped one in his mouth.

Then he said, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear  without sounding like he was shouting.

” Hey Anita Marie, do you know where people got the idea for Christmas Trees from? ”

I hadn’t thought of it, I was six. I shrugged. ” From Chubby and Tubby’s? ”

Chubby and Tubby was a hardware store where we bought our Christmas trees from.

” Nope. These people called Pagans- not so distance relatives of ours- ” there were a few chuckles and a few chortles and I heard my Aunt Irene  curse under her breath- I couldn’t tell you what curse word she used.

Apparently she could swear like a sailor but for my entire life I never actually heard one pass her lips.

” Well. The Pagans used to raid these villages and chop off people’s heads. Then they’d hang their heads in the center of their village on a tree they’d haul in just for that purpose  and they’d leave food and offerings to their Gods and then they’d start singing really loud and when everyone ran out to see what was going on, the Pagans- whose blood runs through you veins, I’ am 1000 percent sure of that-”

I remember pulling my shoulders back and smiling.

He continued:

“they’d light the tree on fire and ride off into he night on horse drawn sleighs festooned with bells.”

I looked at my Aunt Irene’s tree with admiration. ” So why did the villagers start decorating trees with little glass ornaments instead of heads and why did they put presents under them to each other?”

My Grandpa Bert popped a bourbon ball into his mouth and said sadly, ” Because the world is full of people who forgot how to raise a little Hell  and have some fun now and then. ”

From nowhere the thought popped into my head and out of my mouth, ” does raising me count as raising a little Hell and it’s fun. Right?”

” Yep. I believe so.  Merry Christmas Anita Marie. ”

Word of The Day Challenge: Apostle