Few folks realize just why so many of us stick an angel on the peak of our Christmas trees. It’s actually a very old custom started by ol’ Saint Nick himself…
Santa Claus was having a really bad day. It was already Christmas Eve, and nothing was going right. Mrs. Claus still hadn’t fixed the rip in his favorite red coat. The elves had just gone on strike for better working conditions and stock options. The reindeer had gotten drunk, taken the sleigh out for a spin, and crumpled the runners in a fenderbender. And the angel still wasn’t back from the forest with a Christmas tree. “The heck with milk and cookies,” Santa thought to himself. “The little kiddies better be leaving bottles of scotch.” He turned to his wife. “Honey, would you please hurry up with my coat…”
Suddenly the front door crashed open. An exhausted, bedraggled, and half frozen cherub stormed in dragging an evergreen. “Yo, fat man!” he called out. “Where the hell do you want me to stick this tree?”
Apparently I’m not allowed to tell this story to my young niece and nephew for some reason.