Cats on Tuesday: Gretchen Tells A Story

Cats on Tuesday is hosted by Gattina. For more cat antics go here.

The Christmas Tree Skirt
as told by Gretchen the Cat

This is the third year I've gotten to spend Christmas sleeping on my favorite bit of cloth. In the human world it is called a quilt, and in this particular case, the bit of cloth that I love so much, and only see for about a month in the dead of winter each year, is called a Christmas tree skirt.

The simple, but colorful bit of cloth that is tied around the base of the tree each year has a story that I'd like to tell. My human being (or my Mom Bean in my world) has told this story to many visitors, and reminisces about it with her daughters, and husband, each year, so I pretty much know it by heart and would like to share it with you.

Today is what the human world calls New Year's Day. A day, when typically, my mom bean removes the bright, red and green decorations and the tree that has been so brightly lit for several weeks, and places all of these things back into old cardboard boxes, then removes them from the house. I will not see these things again for eleven long months. I don't even know where they are taken. But every year they disappear, only to reappear again when it's time for Christmas.

Everyone I know, so far in my life's journey, makes such a fuss over Christmastime. Not only do those, mmmm…smell so good boxes, come back inside the house and release their familiar scents, but the humans in particular, seem so busy. So bothered by shopping and wrapping and baking and visiting and cards getting mailed on time. It's an exciting time for everyone, including me. Boxes come in the mail with more strange scents to explore; envelopes containing pretty cards come every day, too. Once they are ooed and awed over, my bean hangs them on a red or green string for all to enjoy. I must admit that their sparkly, bright, red and green, gold and silver colors do add to the festivity and excitement of the month.

But given all that fuss and commotion, there was a time long ago when my favorite bit of cloth was transformed into the all important Christmas tree skirt. Today, I watched as my mom bean picked it up, shook out the pine needles (even artificial pine trees seem to shed their needles), folded it and set it aside while she gathered up the rest of the pretty Christmas things, wrapping them in bits of tissue, and putting them carefully back into those boxes. I put my paw upon my folded bit of cloth, breathed in one last long sniff, and then said goodbye to it one final time, before it disappeared to that place I don't get to see.

My bean said that even though they've had some meager Christmases since then, there was none so remembered in the hearts of her family as the one that this tree skirt was made for. It happened, I'm guessing, close to thirty years ago. Long, long, before I came into this world. My mom bean, pa bean, and all the kid beans, had just moved from a place called California to a place called Illinois. They had a really nice life in California and always had nice Christmases. But she never really had a pretty tree skirt to put underneath the trees over the years. I think she said they either used a large white sheet or fluffy cotton batting under the tree to look like snow. I've never seen anything but my bit of cloth, so I couldn't really tell you for sure what it was they used or why they even wanted it to look like snow.

Anyway, this one particular Christmas where my fond bit of cloth was transformed into a tree skirt, was the poorest Christmas my bean family said they'd ever had. They had no extra money for a tree, or presents…not even wrapping paper and ribbon.

So one day my mom bean had an idea. She told pa bean to go hunting in the woods with a saw. Now, if they had lived in another state, perhaps, they could have gone out into the countryside and cut down a traditional Christmas tree. Where they lived that particular December there was no such place to cut a free pine tree. So mom bean suggested that pa bean go out into the countryside somewhere, and search the woods for a deciduous tree (the kind that lose their leaves in the fall each year), that was shaped most like a Christmas tree, cut it down and bring it home.

In the basement mom bean had found a bucket of white house paint. In the garage, pa bean had emptied a bunch of junk out of a five gallon bucket and filled it with rocks. When mom bean had painted every branch white and it had dried, they brought it inside and set up in front of the large windows of the living room. She then taught the girls how to make ornaments for the tree. Some they had from other Christmases, but this tree was much larger than any they'd decorated before, and with no pine needles, there were lots and lots of spaces to fill. She said they didn't even put any lights on the tree, either. Anyway, the tree soon bloomed with ornaments, and garlands of popcorn, and even without lights, she said it was the prettiest Christmas tree they'd ever had.

Now, for the tree skirt part. Mom bean said she was a scrap saver. She had moved a lot in her life and the one thing, beside the kid beans, that she made sure traveled with them, was her box of fabric scraps. The girl beans were old enough that year to sew and from her scrap box they made all their gifts for their family…that included grandpa and grandma beans as well as auntie and uncle and cousin beans. Everybody had a handmade gift that year. And every gift was wrapped in tissue paper, too, my most favorite kind of wrapping paper.

Somehow, there was no white fabric, no cotton batting, not even a white sheet, large enough to be used as a skirt for the tree. All she had left, after the girls had made all their gifts, were small bits fabric, nothing large enough at all for a tree skirt. She was in a hurry to come up with something. Pa bean had just brought home some brand-new, clean, large pieces of thin, white cloth that he'd used at the machine shop where he worked. She confiscated them and turned them into a circle of cloth. With the bits of red and green scraps she cut out trees, candy canes, and a pair of bells that she appliquéd onto the white circle. She sewed a bit of red edging around the top to make a tie. One last thing she did before placing it under the magic white tree was to embroidery the year, 1980, and the address where they had lived.

The following Christmas things returned to normal. They had a live, spruce tree that year and many store bought gifts and wrapping paper. Mom bean worked for a fabric store that year, too, and instead of just buying a new, fancy tree skirt, she brought home some red Christmas print fabric for the backing of the white circle, and some red and green trim with red and green fuzzy balls.

She remade the little tree skirt and filled it with some fluffy stuff to make it poofy. She then quilted around the appliqués she had sewn on the year before. It looked pretty. She said it was a reminder to all the family that the poorest Christmas they'd ever had, was also the best Christmas they'd ever had. The very last thing she did to the newly, redesigned tree skirt that year was embroider the date, 1981 and the new address where they were living.

Each year after that, the same little tree skirt had been unpacked from the Christmas boxes, a new date and addressed added, and then placed under the tree, until the last kid bean had grown up and left home. Mom bean said that many times she wanted to buy a store bought tree skirt of velvet and lace, all fancy and new. But each time she opens the Christmas boxes she changes her mind and puts the old one under the tree.

It is a family jewel now. A treasure of Christmases past. The white tree, the bits of cloth, the additions of backing, and quilting a year later, and all the addresses that they'd spent their Christmas at: it's too priceless to toss aside, now. For that I'm happy. For me, it's been the best part of all the fuss and muss of Christmas, and since my very first Christmas here, I've claimed a corner of it as it was spread beneath the tree. It's now my bit of cloth, my tree blanket, and even though it's been washed a few times, it still carries all of the smells of love and happiness past.

Happy New Year Everybody!