When I was a little girl, my family lived in a rural area of Ohio. We had five acres of land flanked by corn fields and railroad tracks on all sides. I was in love with nature, as I have always been, and really believed that trees were alive and had personalities and feeling just like people do.
Outside my bedroom window, there was one very peculiar tree. The top had been snapped off in a wind storm, and it stood very stout and box-like all alone in a patch of grass. I loved this tree and felt sorry for it. I imagined it was lonely and wanted other trees to play with, but was left all alone because it was so different.
One frigid Christmas eve our power went out and my dad had to stoke up the wood stove to keep our family warm. He had some wood, but it wasn't enough to last all day. He warmed up the chain saw and prepared to saw down the ugly little tree outside my bedroom window. In a panic, I ran outside and begged him to stop, but it was to late. My precious tree lay in a heap on the lawn. I sobbed for hours. My dad tried his hardest to explain that he didn't know I liked the tree, how it would keep us warm with a fire and how he would possibly even plant an apple tree to replace it, but nothing could comfort me. I went to bed that night grief-stricken.
The next morning was Christmas. I woke up excited about the presents but saddened that the snow outside blanketed the ground, but never again would fall on my little tree. Dragging my feet with my eyes fixed on the hardwood floor, I quietly shuffled into the living room. In any other situation, the presents would have caught my eye first, but what I saw took my breath away! During the night the power had returned, and there was my beautiful little tree, decorated brightly and vibrantly with all sorts of colors and a tall angel glowing in all its Christmas glory on the very top! Not only was my tree there before me, but it was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen! I was so happy that I still can't even remember if I opened presents that morning or not.
When evening came and it started getting cold again, I didn't mind helping my family undress the tree so we could have a toasty little fire. I felt that my tree had had the best joy any tree could possibly experience, and because of this I was joyful too. It was the best Christmas memory yet and one that I share with my own children every Christmas.
Outside my bedroom window, there was one very peculiar tree. The top had been snapped off in a wind storm, and it stood very stout and box-like all alone in a patch of grass. I loved this tree and felt sorry for it. I imagined it was lonely and wanted other trees to play with, but was left all alone because it was so different.
One frigid Christmas eve our power went out and my dad had to stoke up the wood stove to keep our family warm. He had some wood, but it wasn't enough to last all day. He warmed up the chain saw and prepared to saw down the ugly little tree outside my bedroom window. In a panic, I ran outside and begged him to stop, but it was to late. My precious tree lay in a heap on the lawn. I sobbed for hours. My dad tried his hardest to explain that he didn't know I liked the tree, how it would keep us warm with a fire and how he would possibly even plant an apple tree to replace it, but nothing could comfort me. I went to bed that night grief-stricken.
The next morning was Christmas. I woke up excited about the presents but saddened that the snow outside blanketed the ground, but never again would fall on my little tree. Dragging my feet with my eyes fixed on the hardwood floor, I quietly shuffled into the living room. In any other situation, the presents would have caught my eye first, but what I saw took my breath away! During the night the power had returned, and there was my beautiful little tree, decorated brightly and vibrantly with all sorts of colors and a tall angel glowing in all its Christmas glory on the very top! Not only was my tree there before me, but it was the most beautiful tree I had ever seen! I was so happy that I still can't even remember if I opened presents that morning or not.
When evening came and it started getting cold again, I didn't mind helping my family undress the tree so we could have a toasty little fire. I felt that my tree had had the best joy any tree could possibly experience, and because of this I was joyful too. It was the best Christmas memory yet and one that I share with my own children every Christmas.
