The Christmas Cactus
Written by J. Mitchell Brown
very year, I am more and more amazed at how fast time flies. I’m not sure if its because I’m getting older, or that the world is spinning around faster and faster. Regardless, its that time again to start thinking about Christmas cards, gift buying and house decorating. I’m pretty sure it was just yesterday that I was planning our Memorial Day party.
Years ago in Columbia, my mother announced one morning at the breakfast table, “I’m not decorating for Christmas this year.” I don’t think we were paying too much attention. Her not decorating for Christmas was about like a pilot saying “I think I’m going to stop using landing gear.” She always spent days and weeks getting the lights hung, fresh garland made and wrapped, potpourri simmering, two Christmas trees decorated like they were Smithsonian exhibits. She would hide miles of wires and cables, tweak ribbons and bows, and wrap presents so beautiful they could be placed at The Manger itself. So, when she said she wasn’t decorating for Christmas, we shrugged it off like we do when dad says all he wants for his Christmas present is “For everyone to be happy.”
Mom came in one day about a week before Christmas that year carrying a cactus in her hand. I was standing at the island in the kitchen and said through a mouthful of potato chips, “Don’t you think it’s time to get the tree up? You usually have it up by Thanksgiving.”
“I already told you I’m not decorating this year.”
“That’s ridiculous, Mom,” I said, wiping my greasy hands on a dishcloth. “You mean to tell me we’re not going to have a tree to place gifts under?”
“Son, it’s not about the trees and lights. Remember that.” Then she held out the cactus to me. “Take this and put it in the living room. This is my only decoration this year.”
What she handed me was a Christmas cactus, full of buds, but not yet ready to pop. I had remembered seeing the cactus in her greenhouse earlier in the fall. It was always there, but it never really made an impression on me. I could vaguely remember moving it from greenhouse to greenhouse throughout the year with a bevy of other plants that we seemed to just shift from place to place. I placed it on the curio in the den where we normally would have our “gift opening” Christmas tree. Mom would have another “formal” tree in the living room, but this was the one where Santa Claus would always show up. I hoped he would not get all weirded out that we had a cactus instead of a tree and forget to leave me presents.
“So what’s the deal with the cactus?” I asked Mom when I came back to the kitchen.
“It was your grandfather’s. It’s several years old, but still healthy, so I wanted to bring it out and see what it would do.”
The Christmas cactus (Schlumbergera bridgessi), or zygocactus, is native to the South American rainforests, but performs spectacularly in our temperate climate around Bluffton. Not to mention, this plant is ridiculously easy to care for. If you can remember to water it every once in a while, feed it once in a blue moon, and keep it from being destroyed by wind or freeze, then you are in for a spectacular show around the holidays.
Though it’s name infers it, the Christmas cactus is not really a cactus at all. It is a succulent and can store a fair amount of water in its leathery leaves. Don’t misconstrue that to mean it is drought tolerant, though, because it is not. While they are susceptible to drowning, if you only water them to the point where the soil is moist to the touch, you should be fine.
For the bulk of the year, you will have a plant that is fairly boring. The thick leaves look sort of like a holly leaf and they “build” on each other by sprouting from the tip and stacking together sort of like Legos. Down at the base of the plant, the leaves turn woody to give an older plant some substance. With proper care, they can live for years upon years, and the biggest of these plants are nothing short of impressive.
Around the Thanksgiving holidays, you can begin to see little buds forming on the tips of the leaves. I have read that you can manipulate the buds opening, but usually by the time I get to the holidays, I’m ready to see these things pop. When they open, the cactus will be virtually covered with brightly colored trumpets, sometimes fading to white in the blooms’ throats. The blooms will last for nearly six weeks before wilting and falling off, and the colors can range from bright salmons and pinks to yellows and whites. In the weeks leading to blooming time (September and October), you should place your cactus in the brightest spot in your house or yard to maximize the numbers of blooms you will have. But rest assured that even the lamest of Christmas cacti will still be quite the holiday show.
Christmas came that year, and Mom held to her word. She never did hang even the first little white light. Santa found the cactus and loaded us up with presents, so he didn’t seem to think the lack of a tree was too odd. I remember that particular Christmas morning well. We were all happy with hugs that even my sister and I shared, so I reckon Dad finally got his wish too.
I have that cactus now. It’s promising great things. The leaves are sagging with buds right now, and within a couple of weeks, it will look like a fireworks show on my porch. It’s going on close to ten years old, and for 45 weeks out of the year, I don’t think about it. But during the holidays, amid it’s spectacular light show of buds, I am reminded of a simple message. Remember things that are important and true: It’s not about the trees and the lights.
