I walk through my neighborhood on a snowy night a few days before Christmas, mulling over life and just wondering (as in, feeling wonder-struck) at the decorations and lights. Every now and then something I see triggers specific memories from my childhood, like the homemade wooden star fitted with C9 bulbs that lived forever in our basement but never, in my memory, was put up for the holidays. Or the time, as a toddler, I pulled our Christmas tree over on myself.

I look through a front window at the lights of a family's tree, considering the life represented there, the gifts to be exchanged, the words spoken, the love and hurt, caring and forgiveness that will surround that single tree. What will be felt and understood–right there–in the coming week?

I'm struck by the potential volume of emotion represented by even one single Christmas tree.

And every Christmas tree in this city has its own story, embodies individual and family memories of the past, hopes for the future, love for self and others, longing for meaning and God. Multiply that by all the Christmas trees in all the houses up and down these streets and across Denver…and the country…and the world…

Wow. Humbling. I feel small.

Text and image © 2010 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved.