"Look, Mommy! I made a Christmas tree.
" "Hmm.
" I responded, trying my best to neither encourage nor discourage my four-year-old daughter as she proudly pointed to her makeshift pyramid of stuffed animals.
Not that there's anything wrong with Christmas trees.
Even though I'm Jewish, I take delight in the holiday decorations at this time of year, with all its glitter and charm.
And when my daughter would squeal in delight at the Christmas fare, I always smiled right along with her.
The tree, however, became a source of an ever-increasing obsession.
She understood that we had a Jewish home and did not adorn a Christmas tree.
As a bright and delightful child, she never argued the point with me.
But there was always an unmistakable tone of sadness and regret in her voice when she'd say; "Mommy, I really like Christmas trees.
" I had briefly considered the idea of a Hanukkah Bush, the tongue-in-cheek satire on Christmas trees that found had its way into some secular Jewish homes.
The idea didn't sit right with me, though.
A Christmas tree by any other name is still a Christmas tree.
I had been thinking of something our rabbi had written, about how homes filled with a love of Judaic traditions all year long eliminated the December dilemma.
A beautiful sentiment, but for whatever the theory, the reality was that the apples and honey, the Shabbat candles and the sukkah, did not in fact eliminate Christmas envy in my child too young to appreciate the depth of Judaic tradition.
So I got an idea.
I picked up my daughter from pre-school that day.
"So I have been thinking about trees," I said as I lifted my daughter into her car seat.
"Really?" she said expectantly.
It was nearly December, after all, and obsessive four-year-olds are adept at jumping to conclusions.
"No, not a Christmas tree.
" I felt the need to make this clear.
"Oh?" If she felt any disappointment, it was masked by intense curiosity.
"I thought it would be nice if we got a Tree of Life.
" I explained.
"Like on Shabbat?" She was remembering a metaphorical song of the same name, sung by our cantor when the Torah emerges from the arc.
"Sort of like that," I continued.
"It's a tree we'll have in our house all year long.
We'll decorate it for all the Jewish holidays, and maybe even important days for our family too.
Like birthdays.
Or Mommy and Daddy's anniversary.
" I don't think I had ever seen a bigger grin, and my daughter grins some big grins.
Ideally I would have liked a living potted tree, but the inside of our home doesn't receive enough natural light to keep one healthy.
We selected an artificial ficus with broad leaves.
It had a long, bare trunk, and branches, with leaves the color of summer.
Nothing at all like a yuletide evergreen.
As we pursued the store we talked about how we will decorate it.
"Since Hanukkah is coming soon," I said, "I bet we can hang dreidels on it, and we'll add lights since Hanukkah is the Festival of Lights.
And oh look - they have six-pointed snowflakes here!" "And for Rosh Hashanah," my daughter offered, "We can turn it into an apple tree!" "That a great idea," I smiled.
It's hard to miss the six-foot tall potted ficus protruding from a shopping cart.
A woman passing us remarked, "What a wonderful tree you girls have.
" "It's a Tree of Life," boasted my daughter.
"We're going to decorate it for Jewish holidays all year!" I'm sure our ficus, ablaze with blue and white lights, might cause a fair deal of dramatic gasping and dismay from some of my fellow Jews.
And to be fair, I'm sure our Tree of Life is disproportionately adorned for the relatively minor festival of Hanukkah.
But we'll see.
I'm honestly looking forward to colored lights and ornate masquerade masks for our tree on Purim, and maybe some faux pomegranates and Indian corn for Sukkot (we can keep it that way straight through Thanksgiving.
) And while the Hanukkah gifts have naturally found their way under the Tree of Life, I think the birthday presents will find their home their too.
And maybe, if I'm lucky, something special from my husband for an anniversary in our future will find its way to the base of its trunk.
I am a Jew who believes in evolving tradition.
A tradition that honors the past and acknowledges the present.
For us, our Tree of Life is just that.
I hope it will liberate our children from the envy of lights and trees, while at the same time honoring a Judaic home that is alight with celebration not just in December, but all year long.