November
St Pierre in
the northwest corner of Beaumont Island, is the largest town on the island, in
fact it’s the only town on the island and the most densely populated area in
the Pepperstock Bay Islands.
St Pierre was
where Arthur Lewis had lived for all 63 years of his life, in fact he’d lived
his entire life in the same house, and it had never once occurred to him that
he should live anywhere else.
He was born in
the late fifties and had few recollections of that austere decade, almost all
his earliest memories were from the brasher, brighter and less restrained
sixties.
But the
earliest memories he did have were about Christmas and in the Lewis household
Christmas began on St Andrew’s Day, November 30th.
As a result of
his awareness of the time coming on the cusp of the decades, his earliest
memories of Christmas were of a bright and sparkly time when paper chains and
the watery coloured paper stars, bells and balls were being replaced by
dazzling foil and tinsel.
Which included
the Silver Tinsel Christmas Tree, when he looked back it was a quite
unspectacular specimen of a tree compared to what’s on offer in the 21st
century, but he loved it.
It stood less
than 5 feet tall with its fold down tinsel covered wire branches, tipped with
red beads to symbolize berries.
However, by the
time his Dad had worked his not inconsiderable Christmas magic and covered it
with every size, shape and shade of bauble, glass birds with feathered tails,
lantern lights, strands of brightly coloured tinsel, foil covered chocolate
treats and tiny crackers lain on the branches, it was transformed and was
absolutely stunning.
It was the only
tree he’d ever known until his teenage years came to an end, when in the
mid-seventies he suggested that they have a real tree just for a change.
He would never
have suggested it if he had realized for a second that it would signal the
death knell of the Silver Tinsel Tree.
Because the
following year it was replaced by a green plastic tree much more akin to the
trees of today.
After his Dad
died a few years later the task of decorating the tree fell to him and he
instantly realized, sadly, that he hadn’t inherited his father’s tree dressing
skill and was never able to equal him.
He came very
close one year, in 1983 it was, but he concluded in the end that he merely
flattered to deceive.
The task of
tree dresser fell to his wife Becky which she performed admirably for 40 years,
and she made a far better fist of it than Arthur ever could.
However,
whether she possessed the necessary skill to transform a Silver Tinsel Tree
into something stunning he would never know, as she passed away in October.
“What I would
give to watch you dress the tree again my darling” he said as he stared at the
naked branches “and then hold you in my arms beside it”
