A shiny presence is gone from my house

Today being Epiphany, I took down my Christmas tree, and already I miss it. It shimmered with tinsel, it shone with big old-fashioned lights, and it glistened with ornaments from my life: the tin fish from Georgetown in the 70s, the silver star my brother David made of Mylar and toothpicks, the Santa Claus Zack made out of construction paper, glue, and cotton many years ago, the Victorian fan Caleb made in forth grade, the feathery peacock from India which always goes on top, the striped pink and blue ball Anita gave my mom, and so many more. The tree was a thing of beauty. When I'd finished decorating it before Christmas, it was almost perfect, but one thing was lacking -- shimmer. So I covered it with tinsel. Not the heavy leaded tinsel of my childhood, but the modern, holographic plastic tinsel of today. That was the touch it needed. Since my camera is STILL in the repair shop I couldn't take its picture and am instead showing the cover of a wonderful book, Deborah Kogan Ray's treatment of the poem by e. e. cummings, which I will give here, as it deserves to be widely known:

little tree

little silent Christmas tree

you are so little

you are more like a flower

who found you in the green forest

and were you very sorry to come away?

see i will comfort you

because you smell so sweetly

i will kiss your cool bark

and hug you safe and tight

just as your mother would,

only don't be afraid

look the spangles

that sleep all the year in a dark box

dreaming of being taken out and allowed to shine,

the balls the chains red and gold the fluffy threads,

put up your little arms

and i'll give them all to you to hold

every finger shall have its ring

and there won't be a single place dark or unhappy

then when you're quite dressed

you'll stand in the window for everyone to see

and how they'll stare!

oh but you'll be very proud

and my little sister and i will take hands

and looking up at our beautiful tree

we'll dance and sing

"Noel Noel"

~ e.e. cummings