The Fig Tree

The tale is common across cultures: the Syrian or Greek or Italian great-grandmother who carried a cutting from a beloved fig tree in the folds of her skirts while crossing the ocean to Ellis Island.  From leaving a mountain village by horse or foot, to enduring the voyage, to waiting what might be days or even weeks for a relative to retrieve her, all told, from some accounts, it might be months before a fig stick was planted on American soil.  If that was possible, I thought, I should have no trouble.  It should be easy enough to carry a cutting from Taiteh's back yard in Vicksburg, Mississippi, aboard the three-hour flight back to Raleigh. 

Taiteh is the term of endearment for grandmothers in certain parts of Lebanon.  She was my maternal great-grandmother, having immigrated to the United States in her early teens with her mother and young husband.   She was among hundreds of Arab immigrants to the deep South in the early 1900s who first made a living as peddlers, selling their wares from sacks and carts to sharecroppers and timber camps and small rural towns.   As they learned the language and earned more money, they opened shops and restaurants and other sorts of businesses, raised families, founded churches, and slowly settled into southern American life.  Vicksburg, which lazes along the Mississippi River and was once a thriving port town, attracted lots of these merchants, including my great-grandparents and scores of cousins from small Lebanese mountain villages.  Names like Khalil, Abraham, Nosser, and Nassif are still common in communities throughout the Mississippi Delta, from Shreveport to Vicksburg to Birmingham and beyond.

I am among the third generation of Taiteh’s descendants to be born in the United States, and while my genetic link to the Old Country is just one set of great-grandparents, the Lebanese culture is an enormous ethnic influence in my life.  I have rich memories of the summers and holidays I spent as a child around large, crowded tables, eating kibbe and fatayer and stuffed yellow squash.  My mother would take us visiting to elder aunts and distant cousins all over town, without invitation, because this is what was done, especially on Sundays.  Their homes were always welcoming and smelled of mint and cinnamon, fried onions and roasted meat.  We visited St. George’s Antiochian Orthodox Church on Washington Street, still a beacon of Arab immigrant history, and today a sanctuary for Eastern Europeans and Southern Baptist converts. 

Traditions of food, faith and family are so common to both Lebanese and Southern American culture that, I admit, sometimes it’s hard to distinguish between the two.  Taiteh, my grandmother, and my mother all have passed on, and without them, I sometimes struggle to maintain the same strong sense of identification with my Lebanese roots that I once had.  I recently shared my feelings with my Aunt Rosemary, who left Vicksburg years ago but cherishes her own memories and the small keepsakes that make such a difference: crocheted doilies, thin gold bangles, the church cookbook, the family tree, all of which she carefully tends.  She took me to her kitchen door, which opened to the back yard.  “See that?”  she said, pointing to a small, bushy fig tree, rife with new growth.  “That’s from Taiteh’s tree.  I always have a piece of her, and all those memories from Vicksburg.” 

I had heard about Taiteh’s fig tree, how as newlyweds, my father and my mother had picked figs beneath it, eating them fresh before they could deliver them inside.  “Those figs…,” my father said, “Mmm, they were the best!”

To Arab people like my Taiteh, fig trees stand as a symbol of bounty and harvest, and also what can root and grow under the most extraordinary of circumstances.  Immigrants from any number of Mediterranean places have known this to be true.  A Palestinian man I once knew had half a dozen fig trees in his yard, and each year rooted new ones from fall cuttings to pass on to friends and relatives.  This is what my Aunt had done: rooted a fig tree in the tradition of the immigrants, as a means of continuity, familiarity, and hope.  Sometimes that was the only means they had.

I decided I would continue the tradition.  On my next visit to Vicksburg I drove to Taiteh’s house, a narrow bungalow perched on crumbled pilings, long since passed from family hands.  It stood empty and decrepit, windows boarded up to keep out vagrants.  Poison ivy skirted the foundation, and rusted garbage and abandoned toys littered the yard.  All around the neighborhood had changed, had fallen into decline.  Taiteh would hardly recognize the place if it weren’t for the enormous fig tree, sprawling and lush, bordering the yard like a proud yet aged sentinel.  From the stumps leaning out from its base, I could see it had been cut back many times, but still it grew.  Fig trees always come back.  I took my cuttings, gently wrapped the ends in wet paper towels and a plastic bag, and carried them with me in my lap on the plane back to Raleigh. 

Fig trees don’t flower.  Their fruits just appear, like magic, after the first heavy spring rain, and then again in the fall.  Mine is still small and hasn’t yet fruited, still struggling to find its place in the Carrboro soil.  But the cutting I gave to my father has grown like a weed, and it fruited the same year his first granddaughter was born.  Eight hundred miles from Vicksburg and one hundred years from Lebanon, Taiteh and all her gifts are still with us.  Now the fourth generation, and eventually the fifth, can take their cuttings too, carrying on a tradition that someone, some time ago, started in their Old Country.   

By Bethany Chaney   

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     The first tradition that came to my mind that my family has always participated in and still do is the Christmas tree. It is something that we do together as a family every year. This is a special time for us. It is time for family and time to say Happy Birthday to Jesus. We are a close family and this is just another reason for all of us to get together. I enjoy watching all the kids open their presents. My favorite part is watching my daughter as the presents pile up under the tree and watching her try to guess what the stuff is already at four years old. It is so much fun to put hooks on the ornaments and watch her hang five ornaments on the same limb. After she goes to bed I space them out some, then the next day she will put them back again. The Christmas tree just brings us closer together as a family. We forget everything for the day and just think about each other and spending time together.

     Almost 1000 years ago in Germany St. Boniface found pagans worshipping an oak tree. Boniface had the tree cut down and removed. In the oak trees place, a fir tree grew out of the ground. St. Boniface saw this as a sign of the Christian faith. It was not until the 16th century that fir trees started coming indoors at Christmas time.The Christmas tree has many ancient origins. The Egyptians treasured evergreens, so when the winter solstice arrived they would bring green date palm leaves into their homes to symbolize life’s triumph over death.

     The Romans celebrated the winter solstice in honor of Saturnus with a fest called Saturnalia. They decorated their homes with greenery and lights, as well as exchanged gifts. Some of the gifts they gave were coins for prosperity, pastries for happiness and lamps to light ones journey through life. Druids in Great Britain used holly and mistletoe as symbols of eternal life. They also placed evergreen branches over their doors to ward off evil spirits. In the middle ages the Germans as well as the Scandinavians would place evergreen trees inside their home or right outside their doors to show hope for the coming of spring. The modern Christmas tree today evolved from this early tradition.

    The Victorians thought a good Christmas tree had to be six branches tall and placed on a table that was covered with a white damask tablecloth. It was then decorated with garland, candy, and paper flowers.It is thought that Martin Luther began the tradition of decorating the trees. While walking through the woods he came across a group of small evergreens and was stunned by the beauty of the branches dusted in snow glimmering in the moonlight. When he returned home he set up a fir tree inside his home and decorated it with candles, which were lit in the honor of Christ’s birth. He then shared this story with his children. It is also said that he candlelit the tree to simulate the reflections of the starlit heavens that looked down over Bethlehem on the first Christmas Eve.   

     The Christmas tree tradition possibly came to the United States with the Hessian troops during the American Revolution or German immigrants to Ohio and Pennsylvania. It is thought that Hessian troops were reminded of home so much by candlelit evergreens that they abandoned their posts to eat, drink and be merry. That is the night that Washington attacked and defeated them. The custom spread slowly since the puritans banned Christmas in New England. Some ministers nearly lost their jobs for allowing Christmas trees in the church. Schools in Boston stayed open on Christmas and expelled students that missed the day.    

     The Christmas tree market came to life in 1851. Mark Carr brought two sleds full of evergreens to New York. He sold every last one of them. By 1900, one in every five Americans had Christmas trees. Twenty years later, the custom or tradition was almost universal. The Christmas tree has gone through a very long, developmental, rich process in many legends. Christmas trees are symbolic and purposeful.  The Christmas tree is a symbol of a living Christmas spirit, Jesus Christ. It also brings the pleasant aroma of the forest into our homes for a short time. The Balsam Fir Twigs even resemble crosses if you look closely at them.

The main change to Christmas trees is the decorations. It started out with candles. Then handmade ornaments were added. For safety reasons, I am thinking the candles were taken away and electric bulbs added. Now we have artificial trees and lit outdoor trees. Christmas decorations have endless possibilities. You can color coordinate your trees with the many versions of ornaments that you can buy. As you can tell the Christmas tree has a strong background meaning many things for many different groups of people. The Christmas tree is special to many people. To us it symbolizes Christ, and brings the thought of our family putting it up together having a good time. It is a time for us to sit around and say Happy Birthday to the one above.

By Tiffany Aker Hoff