In Search of the Perfect Tree

Our family has a special tradition of searching for the perfect Christmas tree around Thanksgiving. When we lived in Ohio, we would make our yearly trek to the Pine Tree Barn and choose our tree from the large variety of freshly cut Frazier Firs located in the old barn on the hill above the lake. After moving to North Carolina, the home of the Frazier Fir, we decided to make a trip to the mountains and cut our very own tree at one of the Tree Farms in Boone.

After winding around on a road that sliced through a valley between two mountain ranges, we came to a tiny, modular home with an unpretentious sign that said "Bill and Peggy Austin's Tree Farm". The little house was nestled at the base of the mountain and surrounded by fragrant Frazier Firs of all sizes and shapes.

My kids took one look at the homely setting and declared they were not getting out of the car. "It's like barging into someone's home!" Natalie declared stoutly.

An old grandpa, which I assumed was Mr. Austin, came out to greet us as we walked up the slope to the house. (Yes, I made my kids get out of the car.) He put a saw in our hand and waved us up the mountain, saying we could take our pick of any tree. "Everything from the road to the top of the mountain are my trees," he added with pride.

It didn't take long to be enchanted by the beauty of the mountains and for the kids to get caught up in the adventure of this new experience. They ran from tree to tree, delighted to have thousands to choose from in this natural setting. We finally settled on the perfect one and gave Dad the honor of doing the cutting, since he is a tree man, after all. Then came the fun of loading it on the cart, dragging it down the mountain and tying it to the top of the car.

We joined the throngs of other tree-topped cars heading into Boone and ate at the Mellow Mushroom, then stopped by Espresso News for the finest cup of coffee in the Blue Ridge before heading back to Winston-Salem.

That night after the lights were strung and the ornaments hung, we sat around sipping hot chocolate and enjoying the magic that only a freshly cut Christmas tree can bring while Ray Charles sang in the background.

A special tradition became even more meaningful this year. That's comforting when so many things have been different and sometimes unsettling for us in this new land. Now if only we could have some snow...