This year we went to a simple tree farm in Lewisburg, Ohio, from which you can see the farm where my dad grew up, and where my grandma still lives. There was hardly anyone there. There was no Santa or free hot cocoa or a tree shaker or wreaths for sale—just a guy and a fire and a log to sit on if you got too cold—it was perfect.
After we visited my grandma and enjoyed my aunt Ellen’s bread, coffee and hot tea.
It’s a beautiful tree.
“Never worry about the size of your Christmas tree. In the eyes of children, they are all 30-feet tall.” —Larry Wilde