Mark Morgan beautiful Christmas tree tradition in Collinsville Alabama

 Mark Morgan is one of four sons of John Morgan who was pastor in Collinsville Alabama for forty years, my Mothers Hometown where her side of the family goes back to the 1840s. Mark went to Duke, had two brothers who went to UVA and a fourth to Bama. Their fatther died in early May. I went down for a day but didn't make it to the funeral.

    Mark wrote a beautiful tributre to his father and their tradition of searching for live Christmas trees. He spoke at his father's funeral as did his three brothers

        My family cut a Christmas tree over the Thanksgiving holidays. Actually we cut three – two for my house and one for Momma’s house. I have cut over 200 Christmas trees in my life (3-7 per year for 50 years). Always from the woods and fields around Collinsville. Always an Eastern Red Cedar. And always with my Daddy. That changed this year. Daddy loved nothing more than loading his four boys and all his grandkids into his big van and driving around the countryside to find trees. He would have locations scouted weeks in advance. We have cut them from the railroad tracks, from pastures and fence lines, from the interstate (beautiful trees but tricky logistics), from the woods above Trade Day and everywhere in between. Occasionally he even asked for permission from the landowner. More often I think he just prayed about it and came to an understanding the Jesus really loves Christmas. The trees were always far too big. You can walk into a Morgan house in July and know where the Christmas tree goes by the scratches on the ceiling. And we always put on way too many color light strings. White lights are for Opryland and wealthy people. Color lights are for lower class and unrefined people. You can guess which category we fall in. I have yet to see a simple cedar Christmas tree in the South with only white lights on it. We know what we are and are comfortable with it here in Alabama. Daddy wasn’t here this year with us to put up the tree. But we knew how to do it anyway. He taught us how his whole life. And the scratches are right there where he left them on the ceiling of our lives if we lose our way.