A Christmas Memory: The Gumdrop Tree and Family Traditions

Merry Christmas!!! Christmas Day has arrived and over the course of this month, and part of last month, I have shared so many Christmas memories of my past—some from the books I am currently writing and others just related to the holiday. I will continue to share a few more Christmas memories until the end of the Christmas season, January 6 though maybe not as frequently. 

Christmas seems to have come so fast this year, at least for me. Today, a random memory from when I was very little came to mind. It’s from a time when some traumatic events happened in my life, so the details are a bit spotty and pieced together.

There was a period when my parents split up briefly when I was between two and four years old. My mom packed up and flew with my sister and me to stay with my grandmother for what was meant to be a vacation but with the intent to stay in Texas. However, that story is for another time. This story, which happened before I began kindergarten, is a significant memory for me. I'm not sure how long we were living in certain places because, in a short time, we lived in a few houses. We lived in a rented house off Cody Road, where I have a strange memory of possibly getting abducted by something like aliens sneaking in through a hole in the wall behind my chest of drawers. I might share that story in a future blog. We also lived at my granny's house on East Drive in Mobile, Alabama, my grandmother's trailer in Rockport, Texas, our little yellow rented house on Easter Lane, as well as the house we rented from the parents of my sister's friend Laura Moon, just two doors down from the yellow house.

After my parents got back together, we all ended up in the little yellow rented house on Easter Lane. This was shortly after we experienced Hurricane Frederick while staying with my granny until my dad found the yellow house. When we moved in, Daddy did everything he could to try and make amends to my mom, except buying her a replacement wedding band for the one she had lost many years back. When the Christmas season came along, Daddy took us all out to a few places to look for Christmas trees, something that became a tradition. Back in the 70s, places like department stores and hardware stores didn't carry real trees like they do now, and you basically only had three choices: an artificial tree from a department store, a Christmas tree farm, or stands that were usually set up in random parking lots or a vacant area next to a gas station. I know it sounds weird, but this was definitely a thing. Since I moved to Atlanta almost 30 years ago, the only business I recollect that still sets up like this each year is called Big John's.

This particular year, Daddy was going out of his way to make us all happy and wanted this Christmas to be special for us all. We didn’t go to a tree farm but to one of the aforementioned places that had trees set up in a parking lot, or next to one. I don’t remember how the decision was made, but I remember being able to pick out a tree, which I thought would be the one in the living room, but my dad had already picked one out. We all got back into Daddy's pickup truck and headed home, making a stop at TG&Y to buy some Christmas lights and some more decorations. When we got home, Daddy pulled two Christmas trees from the bed of his truck—one taller than the other. The taller tree went into a tree stand, and the other was not cut at the bottom. It was in a planter, complete with its roots—it was a live tree.

The cut tree was placed in our living room, where Mama and Daddy strung the lights and put the star on top before we decorated it. The second tree was placed in my bedroom next to my bed and strung up with a set of our older Christmas lights, the colors a little faded and slightly pastel but pretty all the same. Daddy let Mama decide on how to decorate this one with me. Mama asked what I wanted to decorate my tree with, and I said “candy,” not realizing there really weren’t candy decorations at the time. Nowadays, you can buy decorations molded from candy and ones that look like candy packages. Mama worked her magic, jumped into her yellow Pontiac car, and came home with bags of spice and gum drop candy. Mama was always a creative lady and very much loved making something ordinary into something extraordinary. She also bought silver decoration hangers and took me to my room to begin decorating the tree. Mama showed me all I needed to do was bend the bottom of the hanger slightly and push the bottom of the spice and gum drops onto the wire, then hang each one on the branches. This was really fun because, as tedious as the work was, the fact that we could eat our decorations as we went along made it go quicker. Once we were done, Mama asked if it was missing anything, and I told her a star. We didn’t have the money for a new star, and our actual star was on top of our living room tree, so Mama went into her bedroom and came out with something that resembled a baby doll but with wings and a cord coming from behind—it was an angel. This wasn’t just any angel; it was one from when Mama was a little girl. She got a chair, carefully put the angel on top of my tree, and plugged it into the end of the string of colored lights. While it looked pretty old and dated, I thought it was beautiful. When Mama asked if there was anything else we could add to the tree to make it even better, I said popcorn. We were country people, and I remember seeing popcorn strung on other trees, so it seemed like it might have been a good addition. Unfortunately, Mama said we didn’t have any popcorn because we didn’t have a popcorn popper. Keep in mind, these were the days before microwave popcorn was made. Most people, including us, didn’t have a microwave in our homes. I don’t think my family even knew what one was.

Throughout the Christmas season, I spent more time in my room, laying in bed and looking at the Christmas lights in the darkened room, insisting they stay on all night in place of my nightlight. I also wanted to make sure Santa knew there was a tree in my room. When Mama wrote my letter to Santa, I told her to make sure he came into my room to see it. I was so proud of that tree, and to this day, I still have visions of it. After Christmas, my Daddy dragged our living room Christmas tree to the back of our yard where there was a wooded area, but my Christmas tree was put on our front porch and watered each day until the ground was warm enough to dig a hole. My daddy planted my tree in the corner of my mama’s vegetable garden. Every time we went out there to pick cucumbers, cantaloupe, or something else during the summer, I would remind Mama of our gumdrop tree.

Regarding the popcorn idea, even though we couldn’t put it on the tree, Mama mentioned to my dad what I asked for and how much she missed popcorn. On Christmas morning, an unspoken Christmas wish came true thanks to the Christmas tree in my room. My mama opened up a box to find a brand new West Bend Popcorn Maker. She used that popcorn maker for years and probably still had it up until she passed away. Mama’s popcorn maker was a staple in our house. She would make popcorn for us to snack on at night, make popcorn balls for school functions, and sometimes just make popcorn during the day, just to have some.

This memory is a cherished part of my childhood, a blend of simple joys, creativity, and the warmth of family traditions. Each Christmas, I am reminded of the love and effort my parents put into making the holiday special, despite the challenges we faced. The little gumdrop tree in my room symbolized not just a festive decoration but a gesture of love and a source of lasting happiness.