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How to Turn your Christmas Tree into a Genealogical Family Tree
Karen Sawyer • 19 December 2022
How to Turn your Christmas Tree into a Genealogical Family Tree
Any chance I get to combine my love of family history and photography makes me happy.
The Christmas tree has long held a special place in my heart. Mine is decorated with treasured mementoes I've collected over the years... some gifted to me and some made by family and friends, while others have been carefully handed-down through the generations and are now approaching the status of "heirlooms". Everything that I put on my tree reminds me of my loved ones, past and present. Something usually gets added every year, knowing that today will one day too become a treasured memory, eventually.
This year, which has been so very difficult for so many people (myself included), spending quality time with our friends and family members is especially important. As a student in my final year of a Masters' Degree in Genealogy, I often think of my ancestors at this time of year, and it then occurred to me to turn my Christmas tree into a physical "family tree"... by putting us all onto it!
As I sit here, looking at all our faces peeking out from the branches among those familiar trinkets, I can feel my whole family with me. It is a reminder that part of them lives on in me. It is the most beautiful and perfect Christmas tree that any aspiring family historian could wish for! It has become a new family tradition that, like the tree, will hopefully continue to grow.
Diolch o galon for all your support this year.
Nadolig Llawen a Blwyddin Newydd Dda!
Cardiau Karen /|\
It is lovely to see the snowdrops and daffodils beginning to appear, heralding the first signs of spring. The world is definitely a better place when there are flowers in it. As a young child, one of my favourite books were the Flower Fairies series by Cicely Mary Barker. I was fascinated by the forget-me-nots that grew up through the cracks of the front doorstep of my grandmother's cottage. I even tried making perfume by grinding up petals (the smell would always disappoint). To this day, my favourite blooms are the smelly ones; stocks, roses, violets, lilacs, phlox, and lavender - among others... every year, I plant as many scented blooms to fill my garden (and my nose) as I can! Memory is strongly linked to our sense of smell, which they call "redolence". A photograph can never capture this and so, unless they invent a camera that can, the picture will always be incomplete. To state the obvious, we take in our surroundings using five senses... sight, touch, taste, sound, and smell. Though it is never discussed in photography "how-to" manuals, my ultimate challenge as a photographer is to capture that incomplete moment whilst conveying something more than the eye can see.
I love birds. As a photographer, taking their pictures is a challenge I enjoy, and is very rewarding. One of my favourite feelings in the world is having a wild bird feed from my hand. The first time I experienced this, I was visiting Bosherston lily-ponds at Stackpole in Pembrokeshire. If you take some seed with you, the wild birds there will feed from your hand; blue-tits, chaffinches, and all kinds! This is very unusual. So, when I moved to my "forever home" in Carmarthenshire nearly ten years ago, I started regularly feeding the birds in my garden, in the hope that I could engage with my feathered friends more directly. This is easier said than done, as wild birds are naturally (and quite rightfully) nervous of humans. Though they quickly became used to my presence and would even tap on my window for more food - in hindsight, I should never have fed them from a bird table. I stood there like a lemon with my arm outstretched for about 15 minutes every day... but none of them were the slightest bit interested in taking food from my hand. All e xcept one brave little robin, that is. I soon discovered that there is an invisible boundary encompassing my bird table, apparently visible only to robins. This particular bird, being outside that territory, was constantly chased-off by another robin each time he attempted to visit the bird table. I crossed the "border" and began standing in his spot, arm outstretched, with tasty morsels that Wilym (the name I gave him) was sure to find irresistible - and my patience was eventually rewarded. I fed him at least once a day, over a period of a few months. It was lovely! Then, one day, he stopped coming to see me. His mate (who was always too nervous to visit my hand) remained in her usual place in the holly bush... but Wilym was nowhere to be seen. How I do miss that bird, and the joy of feeling his little feet on my hand! He is the reason why there is a robin on my Cardiau Karen logo.
