Alban's Tree

A few years ago,
I bought my husband a small white Christmas tree.  

The story goes that when he was a young boy, he had his very own white tree.  Every Christmas, he took great joy in getting it out of the attic and carefully decorating it for display in his bedroom.  Oh how he loved his white Christmas tree -- so the story goes.

About the time my husband was 12 years old, his dear sweet mother made a habit of visiting nearby Sage Nursing Home and befriended there a poor unfortunate handicapped soul named Alban.  One day after returning home from a visit, she suggested to little Larry (that's my husband) that perhaps he'd like to give his beloved white tree, ornaments and all, to Alban.  "It would make Alban so happy," she said.

Larry, horrified (but one of the kindest people on the planet), reluctantly agreed, "ok."  So one day soon  after, he delivered his little white tree to Alban... and it did seem to make Alban happy.  And Larry was sort of happy, too... but he never forgot his little white Christmas tree.

And years later when I married Larry,

I heard the story of his long lost white tree.  

So, one day a few years back, when white trees started reappearing on the market, I nabbed one and searched the antique mall to find some ornaments ala mid 1960s to decorate it.   

Larry does like his surrogate white Christmas tree - it brings back so many fond memories - but he's not so very attached to it... at least not like he was to his first white tree.

  I guess that's because he learned the lesson so well

time and time again since that Alban Christmas,

that people are more important than things.