Real or fake? The great Christmas tree debate from the perspective of a reluctant convert

The smell of pine, the perfect imperfection and the occasional spider – real Christmas trees were a staple of the festive season throughout my childhood.

As I now sit beside a $10 plastic tree preparing for my son’s first Christmas, I wonder if I can replicate the same magic with my limited resources.

Growing up it was an annual tradition for my family to make a trip to Santa’s Christmas Tree Farm at Albion Park to pick the perfect tree which would grace our home for the holidays.

We would come stocked with hats which we would place on “possibilities” throughout the field so we didn’t lose the good ones, before consulting and deciding on the winner, which each year seemed to get bigger and bigger and require more decorations to be bought.

But as a child, there was a lot about real Christmas trees that I never had to consider.

This included the delicate timing of purchasing a real tree – too early and it’s dead by Christmas, too late and you risk all the good trees being taken, not to mention it will only be able to be displayed for a short period of time; and you had to buy a new one every single year.

There’s also the constant cleaning of needles, the itchy eyes, the maintenance and the clean-up once Christmas is complete, which included my dad chopping off every single branch to fit it in the green bin.

Was it really worth it?

When I moved out of home, my partner was set on having a no-mess plastic tree, which was the type he always had.

As someone who’s not real keen on cleaning and is particularly susceptible to allergies, I reluctantly agreed.

So we bought a quality fake tree with some realistic(ish) looking branches and despite its annoying symmetry, through decorations tied to memories we made it our own and our generic store-bought tree became a little more unique.

And even though storage is slightly inconvenient, it was a one-time purchase that we knew we would get use of time and time again.

Cut to this year, and unexpected circumstances forced us into a temporary apartment while all our Christmas ornaments and tree sit behind piles of furniture, completely inaccessible, and we faced the dilemma of whether it was worth getting a Christmas tree at all.

But it’s our baby’s first Christmas, so of course we were getting a tree, don’t be ridiculous.

We started from scratch with a trip to Kmart and some dollar stores helping us score a tree, baubles, tinsel and lights without breaking the bank.

And despite me being a bit sulky as we set it up, the complete awe displayed by my eight-month-old as the lights turned on quickly put things in perspective.

At a time when we’re plagued by social media posts of perfect trees and families in matching Christmas pyjamas (no judgement, we have some ourselves), it’s easy to forget what made my childhood trees so special to me.

With so many families battling cost of living pressures, parents don’t need the competitiveness of what a tree looks like to feel as if their efforts are inadequate.

Looking back, the thing that still stands out to me about getting a real tree was the experience, not the plant itself.

It was doing something with all four of us, which became less frequent as my sister and I became teenagers and adults.

It was the Christmas carols being played in the background which were often muffled by petty arguments about what went where.

It was reminiscing about the decorations and the interesting purchases we had made, as well as the preschool craft projects that still manage to be front and centre (personal favourites include pipe cleaners poking through bits of shiny plastic, painted egg cartons and a paddlepop stick reindeer which is now missing its eyes).

Putting up the tree made it feel like Christmas, but the tree wasn’t Christmas.

I’m still a bit sad that the pictures of Henry’s first Christmas will not be in front of the most exciting tree but I’m determined that what will make the season memorable and magic are the traditions and the time we spend together and not the freshness of some futile festive foliage.

Original Article published by Keeli Royle on Region Illawarra.