Disclaimer: Characters and the FMA universe do not belong to me and no profit is being made off of this story.
Author's Note: I hardly do author's notes, but I feel this story needs it. One: this in no way reflects any of the author's beliefs, nor does it present any belief system as the 'correct' one. Two: I am well aware that the explanation Hohenhiem offers in this fic is very basic and not accurate. He wouldn't know the detailed version, as he is from a place where Christianity is dead and has only a cursory look at the religion from what is publicly available in 1943. It would be out of character for him to know anything else, and pretty well implausible. Please keep these things in mind, thank you.
Tidings of Comfort and Joy
"Why is there a tree inside?"
Edward Elric paused in the doorway of the small boarding house he shared with his father. His eyes were fixed on the conifer that was currently taking up a large portion of the room, shedding needles on the bare floor.
"It's a holiday tradition. I thought it might be nice." Hohenheim stood and brushed off his knees. Ed didn't look amused.
"It's a tree," he said, dropping his satchel on the table. "Why would anyone want a tree inside?"
"To decorate. I thought we could do it together…"
"Decorate? People here are crazy." Ed shook his head and tossed himself lightly into a chair. "Why bring a tree inside and decorate it? Decorate it with what? It's as stupid as all the lights and the songs and everything else."
"There's nothing stupid about a holiday that teaches love and brotherhood of man," Hohenheim said gently.
"Is that what it's all about?" Ed scoffed. "So why a tree?"
"It's a symbol of life. Christmas celebrates, above all other things, life. And hope."
"Oh yeah?" Ed sat up, looking at the tree curiously now. "But why?" He had only the barest grasp of the holiday, putting together what he could by what he saw around him.
"Yes. Here, it's getting cold. Let me light the fire."
Ed just nodded as he looked at the tree, a small and unremarkable thing. It seemed silly to him to celebrate life by killing a plant. Besides, life should be celebrated everyday. It was precious enough. He leaned forward and rested his chin in his hands as Hohenheim lit the fire. Warmth filled the room and the smell of pine was strong.
"So what is it all about? What's the point?"
"A very long time ago, a man was born in a country far away from here," Hohenheim
Began, dragging a box beside the tree. He pulled from it a glass ball on a string. "They say that his mother and father were traveling and stopped for the night at an inn. They were refused a room, and had to make do with a stable. The mother had the child there, with no one but her husband and the animals to bear witness. Instead of a cradle, the baby had a hay trough…."
"What does any of this have to do with a tree?" Ed interrupted, folding his hands behind his head.
"I'm getting there." Hohenheim hung the glass ball from a branch of the tree, standing back and looking at is as though it held the secrets to the universe. "When the baby was born, they say that a bright star appeared in the sky. Shepherds followed its light and found the stable. Wise men far away saw it too, and claimed that a great man had been born. They journeyed by the star's light and came to the baby that was named Jesus."
"I'm still not seeing how this ties in with the trees."
"Do you want to hear the story of Christmas or not?" More glass balls joined the first, each one hung with care and attention.
"Alright, alright." As far as stories went, Ed decided that this one was rather boring.
"And the wise men found the baby Jesus and gave him many gifts. They proclaimed that someday he would grow up and be a great and wise ruler. And Jesus grew into a man, and he did many wonderful things. He made the blind see, and the deaf hear. He turned water into wine…."
"So Jesus was an alchemist?" Ed perked up a bit, leaning forward once more. Hohenheim laughed.
"You would say that, wouldn't you? No, Jesus wasn't an alchemist, I don't think. They said he was the son of God."
"Oh." Ed's face fell. "Religion. You could have just said that you know. Religion's stupid."
"Well, not everyone thinks so. And Jesus did many good things, and he was killed because of it. And there are those who believe that he knew he'd be killed, and that he died for our sins."
"Died for our sins?" The entire thing was getting more and more ludicrous. There were no such things as miracles, and why would anyone willingly die for a bunch of people's sins?
"Shed his blood to cleanse ours. You might not hold with God, Ed, but it's a nice thought that gives some people hope. Let them think what they want to think. I may not believe in a dead god king, but I believe in hope."
"The only person who has to pay for my sins is me," Ed snapped. "Not some dead guy who was born in a stable and scammed a bunch of people into thinking he was a god."
"The son of god," Hohenheim gently corrected with a wry and teasing grin.
"Whatever. It's all the same. People will do anything in the name of religion. Because they think some holy force is going to reward them for being good. The only reward for being good is doing good. The same with doing bad. You carry it inside of you. You're the only one who has to answer for what you do, good or bad." If you're lucky, Ed's inner voice tacked on.
"You know," Hohenheim said quietly, "it wouldn't kill you to accept that some people need faith. They need the belief in something more, and they're better for it. You or I may not, but we aren't all so lucky. And if you want to help me decorate, you'd better hurry up. I'm almost out of ornaments."
"Yeah, yeah." Ed hopped out of the chair and snatched a glass ball from the box. The fire was warm and the tree smelled of the outdoors and there was something cooking in the oven. Ed hung the glass ball on the tree, watching as the fire's light was reflected in its surface. It I was /I pretty, and he supposed that if it made people happy he probably shouldn't gripe about it too much. And maybe there had been a man, born in a stable and with the drive to do good things. Stranger things had happened, Ed supposed. And it I was /I , he admitted in his heart of hearts, a nice story. A fairytale to keep you warm at night.
But he still didn't understand what trees had to do with Jesus.
