Oh, Corner Tree

We have a small English living room, or lounge as they call it here. It doesn't have enough room for our furniture, let alone a Christmas tree. So when we celebrated our first Christmas in England last year, I finally conceded to my husband's pressure of getting a fake Christmas tree. It was my first fake Christmas in my then-28-year-old-life.

Although the act of conceding was previously unthinkable, it became an option when I encountered the Tesco corner tree. The corner tree was invented for tiny English lounges like ours. It's not a full tree. It's slightly more than 25% of a regular tree. A little wedge of a tree, a pie slice if you will, that is meant to look much fuller then it is. I saw the practicality of such an object in our lives and allowed this tree that had never seen soil or light to enter our home last year.

Let me say this of my tiny corner tree: it fulfills its duties of taking up as little space as possible. It requires me to only store one piece of furniture in the garage, and for that I thank Tesco.

Another great thing about having a tiny tree in a tiny space is that it takes a very small amount of gifts to make it look full. In these times of economic hardship, perhaps all families should invest in a corner tree!

On the other hand, it is still a corner tree. A sad imitation of the real thing. Not sad because it's a fake tree. Certainly there are very nice fake trees that fool many visitors into thinking their needles are real. I've seen such trees. A corner tree does not belong in the same category with such trees.

The thing is, a corner tree has no illusions of grandeur. It knows it has no chance of fooling anyone into thinking it once knew the smell of fresh air and the taste of rain. It doesn't expect visitors to gasp and awe at its green glory. It won't hope to hear children singing, "Oh Christmas Tree" as it is adorned with ornaments and garland and lights.

I think, though, that the corner tree is okay with its fate. Despite the fact that it will never star in a Christmas commercial or movie, I think the corner tree is grateful for a home for the holidays. Even though it may not share the glory of a tree in the front window, it still serves proudly under the weight of sentimental ornaments. It stands tall (or tries to) over the coveted gifts wrapped beautifully beneath it. And it folds its arms thankfully after New Years Day as it's returned to it's narrow box for safe keeping until the next year.

And you know what? I'm okay with that, too. No, I may not have the most glorious tree on my block this year. It may pale in comparison to our previous real Christmas trees. But by golly, I love my small English corner tree, and I look forward to spending this and two more Christmases with it.