A wee seasonal tale!
As soon as it was carried into the
house the Christmas Tree knew it had got the present it had wanted—a home. All
those cold lonely days in the Garden Centre, shivering wrapped in clingy sweaty
cellophane. All those family feet rushing past to the taller trees with their
fuller branches.
The Tree had been hopeful one day
when a boy had stopped before it and pointed. `I want that one daddy. ` The
daddy ushered his son towards one of the taller trees.
` One bauble and that tree would keel
over son`
What about
the season of good will pal? That trees minging by the way, with leaf rust! And
it’s contagious. Merry Christmas.
All that pain forgotten now though as
the Tree settled into his new home. Not
sure about its place in the corner.
Got a really nice window there. I like a view! Still I suppose, the family, even the daddy, nice and cheery as they decorate me. That tickles.
The Christmas Tree catches its
reflection in the glass cabinet opposite.
I don`t half
scrub up well.
Whoa, what
was that? Cobwebs! Aren`t you supposed to tidy for Christmas morning? Don`t go
to bed yet, you`ve got work to do. I
never liked the dark. Yikes, creepy crawly multiple legs on my branches! Get
off!
A cold Christmas eve into a colder early
morning Christmas day.
The Christmas Tree didn`t mind the
frost on the window, this is what it should be like, what it had been waiting
his whole life for.
The Christmas Tree had never been
happier.
A sudden gloom on its mood.
Christmas tales from other trees in
the Garden Centre.
` Enjoy the day for…`
` What? `
` New Year and it’s the scrapheap for
us. `
` No. `
The Christmas Tree shivered at the
thought, the house, the home, so cosy and, this was its home now, they
wouldn`t, they just wouldn`t.
The joy on their faces when they were
making it look its best.
` This is what family is all about.`
The daddy had said.
They would never just throw all that
away? Make the Christmas Tree homeless?
It was then it began to happen.
Excited voices and footsteps
upstairs, then louder and closer, and the brother, followed by his sister,
crashing into the living room. Both breathless, their faces aglow with expectation.
Daddy and mummy slowly followed both breathless and too early for adults.
All four stopped suddenly and stared
at the Christmas Tree.
Mummy. ` When did you move it?`
Daddy. ` Why would I move it? I liked
it in the corner.’
Brother. ` Maybe it moved by itself.
`
Sister. ` Yuk. A flat spider. `
I told you I
liked a view.
Mummy. ` What`s that under the
presents? `
Daddy. ` I`m not looking.’
The brother and sister ran to their
presents before their mummy and daddy could stop them. Ooos and ahhs and wrapping
paper filled the room.
Mummy. `Is that what I think it is? `
Daddy nodded.
Sister. ` I know what it is mummy.`
Brother. `I do too. It’s…
Sister. ` Roots. `
Brother. ` Does that mean the Christmas
Tree is staying? `
The Christmas Tree sighed with a contented
joy, baubles swinging gently, the Angel on top almost toppling, but not, the
roots spreading deep down into the foundations holding the tree steady.
Thank you Santa.
You got my letter. A home, and my own family for Christmas.
