Little Christmas tree

Tony Deyal, Gleaner Writer

A visiting minister asked the Sunday school class, "Children, what weapon did Samson use to fight the Philistines?" None of the children could tell him. "I am sure you know the answer," he said consolingly. "Let me help you." He then tapped his jaw with one finger and asked, "What is this?" The class, memories now restored, shouted in chorus, "The jawbone of an ass!" Most of the time, however, kids might not be as sharp or may have started with the wrong "assumptions", so to speak.

In elementary school, one kid's memory was so hazy that when asked what Samson did to the Philistines, he came up with the unique though mixed-up explanation that Samson took a bone and 'jab' them in their rear (although he did not use that exact word). Maybe I should have used an ass-terisk to indicate what he said.

There are many similar creative forays into religion by youngsters who are not too clear about the words or the facts. This is why you hear that 'Joan of Ark was Noah's wife', and 'Lot's wife was a pillar of salt by day but a ball of fire at night'. Those whose lot it is to come into contact with both kids and religion simultaneously have many examples: 'The Epistles were the wives of the Apostles', 'St Paul converted to Christian-ity. He preached holy acrimony, which is another name for marriage', 'A Christian should have only one spouse. This is called monotony', and 'Jesus was born because Mary had an immaculate contraption'. I particularly like, 'The Egyptians were all drowned in the dessert. Afterwards, Moses went up to Mount Cyanide to get the 10 amendments' and 'The seventh commandment is thou shalt not admit adultery'.

Wrong lyrics

Sometimes kids get their hymns and prayers wrong. There is one young lady who, perhaps misled by Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, sang, "Gladly, the cross-eyed bear" instead of "Gladly, the Cross I'll bear" from the hymn, Keep Thou My Way. One little boy prayed fervently, "Our Father, who art in heaven, Howard be thy name ..." But the one that really appeals to me is this version of the Catholic prayer, "Hail Mary, full of grapes, the Lord is a tree."

Immaculate contraption or not, there is a certain metaphysical quality about it. Without being blasphemous, or committing high tree-son, I speculated that if the Almighty is indeed a tree, what kind of tree is He? Would He be a mis-tree or his-tree?

One tree I know He would not be is a bougainvillea. Some people say that the bougainvillea is not a tree, it is a plant. If so, it was planted by the devil himself. Even though there is nothing remotely divine about it, others say it is a vine. From outside it looks attractive and bedecks itself like Joseph in a many-coloured robe, but when you and the bougainvillea get up close and personal, especially when you have to trim it because it multiplies like the loaves and fishes in the miracle, you catch hell. I got into many scrapes when I was growing up, but nothing to compare with trying to cut the bougainvillea in our yard.

Even Wikipedia agrees with me, describing the plant as, "thorny, woody vines growing anywhere from 1-12 metres tall, scrambling over other plants with their hooked thorns. The thorns are tipped with a black, waxy substance." I have told my wife that bougainvillea are more than alive - they are as malicious as Moloch and bad like Ba'al or Beelzebub. They'll rip you into shreds and then rip the shreds. Even after you cut them down to size, the little bits and pieces accidentally left on the ground are waiting for you to be barefoot or in rubber slippers to commit perilous podiatric acupuncture on your person. The slightest hint of rain excites them and they multiply like kangaroos in the outback and are just as aggressive. The first rule of trimming bougainvillea is that you start from scratch and move on to gouges and wounds.

The one and only tree

I figure if the Lord is a tree, He has to be a Christmas tree. When I was young, we bought trees made from wire and green painted paper which we covered with foil and metallic tinsel, hanging artificial bulbs and pine cones on them, and then covering them with artificial snow sprayed from a can, no doubt with an environmentally unfriendly propellant. Did we care as we dreamt with Bing Crosby about a white Christmas? No siree. The thought, the event, the occasion was like Rudolph's red nose, lighting up the present and the future. If the stick of a blind man creates a new darkness, the hopes of a young child illuminate Heaven and Earth.

For me, the tree is literally the root, branch and heart of my Christmas. It is the sparkle and the soul. For many years now, we have used a live pine tree. At one time, when we lived in Trinidad, we bought a new tree every year and then planted it outside to bind the soil together as it bound the family together in the preceding Christmas. In Belize, I contemplated surreptitiously digging a pine tree out from along the highway or up on the Mountain Pine Ridge, but that was risky and entailed legal fees and perhaps detention during the Christmas season if I was caught. One of our friends gave us one from her farm and made our holidays.

Pine trees in Antigua are expensive, about US$125 for a small one, so we bring one inside during the holidays, dress it in Christmas splendour, lighting up its life for a spell, and then return it to its place in the yard when the 12th day has passed. Maybe, during the long spell in the heat and cold, it pines for its place inside as the children and I pine for it as the holidays approach. Perhaps, this year, to show our appreciation of its contribution to our Christmas, we should solemnly say, "Take a bough, pine tree!"

Tony Deyal was last seen asking who was the first financier in the Bible? Pharaoh's daughter - she went down to the Bank of the Nile and drew out alittle prophet.