The first Christmas of the war came five months after the war began. As soldiers sat in their wet and muddy trenches, they anticipated that Christmas day would come and go as so many days before had been spent. However, as darkness fell over the battlefield on Christmas Eve, British soldiers began to hear singing. The German soldiers were singing Christmas carols. The British soldiers heard familiar melodies emanating across the battle-scarred earth where so many had died, and some corpses still lay where they fell. They listened. Some even added their voice to the strange choir. Singing would lead to invitations, and miraculously the soldiers eventually climbed out of their muddy holes and met one another in "No Man's Land," to celebrate Christmas together. There were handshakes, sharing of cigarettes and cigars, and most importantly, a momentary pause in the exchange of gunfire. Diaries and letters to loved ones back home told of makeshift Christmas trees being erected and decorated, soccer games, and other joint activities in stark contrast to the context and location. The momentary relief from the prosecution of war also allowed both sides to collect their dead.

When I was a kid, my church did a Living Christmas Tree program each Christmas season. The event was very much a product of 1980s church culture. It featured a massive steel-framed Christmas tree that rose from the base of the stage to inches from the high ceiling. The tree was constructed to support ascending rows of choir members who stood behind the tree's greenery with only their heads and shoulders exposed. The large choir would perform from the tree, while drama skits and small musical ensembles would perform on stages to the left and right of the tree. The event featured a full orchestra and the spectacle of lights on the tree. I loved it and looked forward to it each year. Over the years, there were common themes that were used year after year. One of those was a narration that made a distinction between this tree and that tree.