The Christmas String

The Christmas String

A Story by Christina May Shanaberg

THE CHRISTMAS STRING

 

When I was eight years old, my father brought a pine tree into the house, from the forest.  My mother asked, "How do you like our christmas tree?"  And, I told her, "That's no christmas tree, it's just an old pine tree from the forest.  I know, because I tied that string on there, so I wouldn't get lost."

 

My mother assured me that that string was how she knew that this was a christmas tree.  She took that filthy old string and cleaned it up and cross-stitched a saying on a heart that hung from it, at the top of that tree and all of the christmas trees that we had.

 

Now, it is over fifty years later and my mother has just passed away.  We lost our father about ten years ago.  Mom died during the holidays and it was very hard.  I was sitting in her parlor weeping into my hands and feeling very lost.  The thought of not having her to comfort me, anymore, was overwhelming.

 

Her cat walked past the christmas tree and caused a little bell ornament to ring.  I looked up at the tree and there it was; the christmas string.  I barely could remember what was written on the heart, but when I did a smile came to my face and heart.

 

     XXXX          XXXX               

  X         X      X         X

X   YOU   X  X  WILL  X

X  NEVER  X      BE     X

 X  LOST, BECAUSE  X

   X      I WILL        X

     X   ALWAYS     X

       X COME TO  X

         X  FIND    X

           X YOU  X

             X   !  X

               X  X

                 X   Even in death she had found me, when I was so very

                       lost.

 

Honorary Mention

Aug 19, 2011


 

© 2011 Christina May Shanaberg


Author's Note

Christina May Shanaberg
This is simply a short story.

My mother, Susie Q on this site, is very much alive and well!

Love ya, Mom!!

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Featured Review

Such a wonderful story...amazing how little things we do, like the making of this christmas string message, can have the most meaning to those that love us.

The first lines of the story had me heartbroken, seeing the tree that was most likely loved by a child who tied the string on it, cut down for decoration. How cruel we are to cut down our best-shaped trees in the forests (I don't participate in the tree cutting, it is hard for me to celebrate knowing that a tree just lost it's life). I liked the way you turned this around to re-use the string again in your story in a positive way.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.




Reviews

So sad and beautiful. A wonderful write.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Your stories are a pleasure to read - they have a message and don't wander needlessly into unknown territory. I may have said that I usually don't review stories (and I don't), but do make exceptions when the stories are done as prose poetry. I can't say the style here fits exactly with my notion of prose poetry (just not enough meter to say so), but your mother's ornament could very well fit the notion of shape (concrete) poetry... the outline being part of the poem and reflecting the message within. Keep writing. :-)

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Nice storytelling. Sounds like something you'd sit around the livingroom with a fire going and listen too.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Beautifully deep with emotion and wondrous recollections. This is a richly woven write that I'm glad you shared with all of here. May we all learn that some things are stronger than death..

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Oh what a heartwarming and beautiful story. I have tears in my eyes. Such beauty and love never ends...

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

C, your mother still comforts you. Every time you write about her. Every time you think about her. Every breath you take that is your mother's comfort; for she gave you the breath of life and she left you touched by her memory.

Nice write.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

A beautiful poem. I have many small items from my Grandmother's home. They have no value except for me. When I see them I remember her face and the love I felt in the safety of her home. A very good story. The small things add up to a wonderful life.
Coyote

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This was very powerful and well written. I really enjoy reading your stories because of the strong sentiment behind them. Thanks for sharing another great write.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

Great work; your stories always carry a sentiment that always touches me, because your work has so much meaning and emotion that runs deep, deeper than the words. That final thought, that your mother found you, even in death, is something I know you'll carry with you for as long as you live. Great work.

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

This is so sweet. Made me tear up. Such a beautiful message of hope. Good job! :D

Posted 13 Years Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.


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1203 Views
31 Reviews
Rating
Shelved in 3 Libraries
Added on May 23, 2010
Last Updated on August 19, 2011
Tags: Christmas, Death, Grief, Love

Author

Christina May Shanaberg
Christina May Shanaberg

Mount Vernon, OH



About
I am a former member of North Shore Writers' Guild in Willoughby OH. I have had numerous poems published and letters. I am, currently, working on a screen play that I hope will interest my cousin-in.. more..

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