"Oh, Christmas Tree" | Eastern North Carolina Now

    Publisher's note: Please join me in welcoming Author Michele Rhem, who presents us with her poignant memoirs of the Rabbit Patch, where her diaries weave tales of a simpler, expressive life lost to many, but gathered together in her most familiar environs - the Rabbit Patch.

    There is almost, a Christmas tree at the rabbit patch window, which I am sure was placed, for that purpose. A good while back, someone bought me one of those pre-lit trees. I love real trees, but it did seem practical and it was very handy, eliminating the fuss with the lights that I always dread. Up until now, the little tree has behaved nicely. This year, it proudly boasts eight working lights. I love Christmas, anyway.

    Meanwhile, Miss Susies' House, looks like a postcard. It is hard for me to imagine her quarreling with lights-if she does, she wins every time. This little community has high standards for decorations and I am quite proud to be a part of it, even if the odds are stacked against me.

    As much as I adore Christmas lights and wreaths on doors-as much I love ribbons on lanterns and bird feeders too-It is the feeling that Christmas stirs in my heart, that I love the most. I think all of the details evoke a sense of celebrating with gratitude. We have never exchanged extravagant gifts at the rabbit patch. Gifts here, are more like sweet little tokens-and I think we are all better off for it. I am a practical person, by nature and I have found it a good habit. Even, when the children were little, I took great pains to keep Christmas an experience instead of an occasion to collect enough things, to be happy. This may be why my grown children ask for things like socks, guitar strings or a nice candle, every year.

    The kitchen is the one place, that I act like "a big spender". Everybodys' favorites are somewhere on the counter. Jenny will have a cheesecake and Kyle will have fresh baked bread. Tres will have fancy coffee, Christian will have eggnog and I will fry pork chops at any given hour, if Brant wants them. We gather around a softly burning fire and have been known to play carols on guitars and violins. If it sounds quaint and old-fashion, it is, but the memory lingers far longer than anything with a price tag.

    This is the reason that I go steadfast in to battle with those undependable strands of lights on the tree. The tree says "Merry Christmas!" to the world, shining through the farmhouse window. . . and welcome home to my children.

    With renewed courage, I will finish the task tonight and the humble tree will become a blazing beacon to all who happen by the rabbit patch, this season. Maya Angelou said "You can tell a lot about a person, by the way they handle tangled Christmas lights." I know exactly what she meant.