“I can’t see the nail.”
Our Christmas Tree goes all the way to our basement ceiling. There is no room for an angel or star.
One year Dan goes, “Want to put this nail at the top?”
It is a simple ornament a college friend made as a gift. A nail, some ribbon, a reminder of why He had to come as a Baby.
The first Christmas after our oldest was born, we were listening to music of the season. Dan was holding Caden and I glanced at the two of them.
“Can you imagine putting him on a cross and letting him die?”
I’ll never forget the look my husband gave me: shuddering horror.
In a way it makes the Season less…sweet. To have a nail be the thing that fits the top of our tree. It’s harder to see sitting on the couch; it doesn’t light up the room like a star would.
But in more ways than one, it is fitting. And it makes the coming Gift that much sweeter.
