Epiphany Moment

KHT and the needle-bare tree

Just when I thought Christmas was done and dusted, my husband advises me that he has an exciting morning lined up for me and the KHT, helping to remove the Christmas tree from the church before the service tomorrow. The excitement didn't end there. The plan was that we would help him to stash all the Christmas gear up in the very cunningly hidden church loft. Some churches have an organ loft, but most churches don't have a loft for general storage. When we are out and about exploring churches, we often spy Christmas decorations tucked away at in the undercroft, or under the communion table.  Our is a modern church, without an undercroft, and nothing can be hidden under the Communion table, so we are very blessed to have a space under the roof where we can store items that are used less regularly. As Health and Safety regulations require more than one person to be present when a ladder is used, the KHT and I had been nominated to be ladder holders and box passers, as part of the grand ecclesiastical seasonal declutter.

The tree  - in all its apparent glory

After a month in church, the tree was looking rather sad beneath the deceptive glitz of tinsel and baubles. Many of the needles had already dropped.

Ooops!

There was a bit of an 'oops' moment, when the KHT misjudges how close she was to the box of decorations she had left balanced on the communion rail...













As the KHT and I removed the decorations there was the sound of pine needles falling to the floor. Echoed, rather unnervingly, by the sound of precipitation landing on the central skylight of the church. Though probably only rain, they sounded like needles of hail as they struck the polycarbonate roof.

Carpet on carpet

I had forgotten how hard it is to remove anything from a real christmas tree, without dislodging needles. By the time the tree was stripped, there was a green carpet on the green carpet...


DH picked up the cumbersome conifer and moved hastily towards the front door with his ungainly load, before he dropped it.  However, with the tree obscuring his vision, he failed to make it through the doorway the first time - showering the surrounding area with tiny green needles that cascaded from the desiccated tree.







The second attempt through the doorway was more successful and the tree made it through the opening -though it was clear to see where it had brushed against the door frame.












An assistant arrived to help stow the gear in the loft, which was great news. I got to work clearing up the debris.  I thought I better check the Dyson to see how full it was. To my horror it was full! Totally, absolutely and utterly full!  There didn't seem to be space to fit another needle!  I was so glad I thought to look before it overheated!  The carpet has been hoovered several times over Christmas, I think that no-one has thought to empty it.

The tree was second-hand, so it was probably already dropping needles when it arrived, but it was a great blessing and we have really appreciated its presence during the Christmas period.

Hoovering up pine needles is a thankless task - you hoover, turn around and more have magically appeared on what had appeared to be a clean floor.

Epiphany has come, but all the stars have been packed away.  The tree has been removed. The tinsel and lights, stored away.
















There was just one thing we forgot....


The nativity scene.

According to the Church of England, the season of Christmas does not end until Candlemas on the second day of February.  Technically the crib should stay until then.

An Epiphany moment.