One year, we used fishing line to secure the Christmas tree to the wall.
When my son was four, some friends of mine went up to the mountains and got about eight or nine trees, and brought one to us. That was a very poor year. I had custody of my younger sister until the next month, when she would turn 18, but they didn’t bring a tree for her and her baby. (This is the same sister who hasn’t spoken to me for seven years.)
So she took one of the largest branches off the bottom (you know: the one that always sticks up and out when the rest are pointing down?) and nailed it to the wall in her little studio apartment next door to mine. She then took some of the decorations I didn’t need and added them. It was quite similar to Charlie Brown’s Christmas tree.
Had it not been for my Real Brother and his wife, none of us would have had a Christmas that year.