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The Honolulu Advertiser
Posted on: Sunday, December 29, 2002

FAMILY MATTERS
'Charlie Brown' Christmas tree gains favor after 37 years

By Ka'ohua Lucas

Christmas has always been my favorite time of the year, especially when I was a kid. My Mom would unwrap the Christmas ornaments that had been stored in old Primo beer boxes.

Dad would set up the Christmas tree stand that had rusted over the years as a result of too much salt air. Then, the family would haul in the Norfolk Island pine.

"Isn't this a gorgeous tree?" Mom would chirp.

"Mom," I pouted. "You say that every year. Why can't we get a Christmas tree that smells?"

Ever since I can remember, our family visited a Kahalu'u farm to select a tree in October for pickup up in December. While my friends were decorating their seven-foot-tall Douglas and noble firs, we were relegated to a Charlie Brown Christmas tree of sorts. (At least, that's how my brother and I felt.)

I wanted a tree with more branches for hanging decorations. And a tree with a pine scent.

Every year, my brother and I begged our parents to purchase a tree that smelled. My Mom consistently ignored our pleas because — as she put it — "too many pine needles to sweep up."

One year, she decided to surprise us.

"Mom, what are you doing?" I asked.

"I have decided to give our tree that wonderful piney scent you have longed for."

In her hand, she was vigorously shaking a can of Smelly Pine, a Christmas-tree spray-on scent.

"Now you have nothing to complain about," she said, showering the tree with aerosol mist.

"That smells awful, Mom!" my brother complained, bolting from the room.

"Oh, you'll get used to it, Honey," she said with a chuckle, cupping her free hand over her nose and mouth to shield herself from the smell.

It's 37 years later and now I have a family of my own. As I prepared space in the living room for our tree, my husband and sons were out selecting one. I do not buy Norfolk pines — a painful reminder of my past.

Every year, I send the men in the family to search for the largest, most fragrant tree. Every year, they arrive home excited about their find.

"Mom!" the 8-year-old shouts. "Come look at the tree we got!"

Every year, my husband places the tree securely in its stand and someone cuts the plastic netting, unveiling the tree in all its glory. And every year as the netting is removed and the branches unfold, I notice a deformity.

"What happened here?" I asked this year.

It looks as if someone had decided to shear off several branches from the upper part of the fir, leaving a deep wound.

"We don't know," they answer in unison.

I've decided a Charlie Brown Christmas tree isn't so bad after all.

Ka'ohua Lucas is a mother of three and holds a master's degree in education curriculum and instruction. Reach her at Family Matters, 'Ohana Section, The Advertiser, P.O. Box 3110, Honolulu, HI 96802; at ohana@honoluluadvertiser.com; or fax 525-8055.