*Updated from a 2022 Lauren’s Law blog and Severna Park Voice column
Since moving back to Severna Park a few years ago, there’s one childhood memory that I’ve especially loved reliving with my family: picking out a Christmas tree at Earleigh Heights Volunteer Fire Company.
I can still envision the giant, blown-up Frosty in all his glory as my siblings, dad, and I pulled into the parking lot in the ‘90s. Later, my sister and I would play tag among the trees after dusk before our family decided upon “THE” tree. I can almost see my breath in the fresh, cold air and taste the delicious, tiny candy canes.
What I remember most, though, are the kind salespeople who traveled from North Carolina. One salesman with a thick Southern accent said one of my family’s all-time favorite catchphrases: “Y’all have a BIG Christmas.” Not a Christmas season goes by where someone doesn’t utter this statement, wishing a Merry Christmas in the most nostalgic of ways. It’s right up there with “Merry Christmas, ya filthy animal.”
All these years later, my family still heads to Earleigh Heights the day after Thanksgiving to get our tree. It’s the perfect way to kick off the season. We don holiday headgear, ugly Christmas sweaters (in my case, anyhow), and argue over who gets to wear the Santa earmuffs and Rudolph nose. It’s festive, chaotic, and sometimes rushed—especially when a toddler suddenly announces she has to pee—but that’s part of the charm.
I’ll always defend buying what some might call an overpriced tree. Yes, it supports our local volunteer fire department. Yes, the trees are beautiful and fragrant. But more than anything, it’s the experience. It’s community. It’s tradition.
Moreover, the “BIG” in the Christmas catchphrase has evolved for me. It’s less about a big group of presents (childhood me) and more about the unexpected joys: childlike wonder from my daughters, time with family, and good health—or at least healthy enough. It’s quieter, deeper, and far more meaningful than anything under the tree.
I’m happiest while sitting couchside with the tree lit, even when it’s slightly lopsided from a heavily decorated lower left side. There’s a magnetic force that draws me to it, savoring any moment I get to snuggle my family while a holiday movie plays and popcorn is shared.
This past year has felt especially heavy for many. Finding joy during “the most wonderful time of the year” doesn’t always come easily. But the Christmas story itself didn’t begin in perfection—it began in uncertainty, inconvenience, and hope entering a messy world.
So when I hear those familiar words—y’all have a BIG Christmas—I hear more than nostalgia. I hear a reminder to make space for wonder, connection, and community, even when things feel rushed, imperfect, or hard. And that’s the kind of Christmas I wish for all of you.
Lauren's Law 