The Christmas Tree

There once was an evergreen tree that lived alone in the forest. He was the only evergreen there, and he stood in a little clearing all by himself. His name was Christopher, and he was very lonely because all the other trees disliked him. They said he was a silly tree to stay green all year.

“Ha-ha! You look ridiculous covered with those silly needles!” they laughed and jeered, “That’s why no one will ever want you! You’re no good! You’re not good for burning, or building, or for climbing either!”

Christopher knew that what they said was true. People did not want him for their fireplaces, they wanted oaks, birches and maples. He would not be built with, because his sap was sticky, and for the same reason children did not climb him. They didn’t want their hands to get dirty.

Christopher sighed, and wondered if he really was useless? Could there a use for him, or would he end his days unloved, alone in the forest? The wind whispered through his branches, and the sun peeked from behind a cloud. The birds flew here and there, chirping out their melodies. The birds were Christopher’s only friends, and they liked to sit in his branches and sing on sunny days.

Christopher noticed that there were many birds out today. Seeing a sparrow of his acquaintance, he decided to ask him what was happening.

“Sammy!” Christopher called out. The sparrow stopped chattering with his friends and looked around. Spotting Christopher, he flew over and alighted on one of his branches.

“Well, hello, Chris!” He tweeted cheerily, “Isn’t it a fine day for traveling?”

“Traveling!” exclaimed Christopher, a note of worry creeping into his voice.

“Sure, my pals and I are flying south for the winter.” Sammy twittered.

“South! Why? Aren’t you guys happy here?” Christopher asked.

“Yes, but it’s getting too cold for us, so we’re flying down to the sunny south for the winter. We’ll be back in the spring! Though, I have been considering spending next year with my cousins who live a bit north of here.” Sammy told him.

“Why not stay? You could make it through the winter! You can build a nest in my branches! Just don’t go!” Christopher begged.

“Sorry, Chris! I’ll miss you, but I’ve got to go south, it’s in my blood. So long, Chris, I’ve got to get ready!” and with a last wave, Sammy the Sparrow flew off.

Christopher stood in silence. He couldn’t believe it; his only friends were leaving! Even if the winter birds came, it wouldn’t be the same. He knew, from what the other trees said, that the winter birds were all snobs, who wore winter coats, and strutted about in the snow. He would be friendless, and the winter winds would whistle, and the snow would fall, and he, Christopher, would be all alone! Christopher blinked back sappy tears and swallowed. He felt as if there was a knot in his trunk. His branches shook as he thought of his fate. Dying alone in a forest, friendless, alone in the winter cold!

Days passed, and flocks of birds flew overhead. A flock of sparrows went by, and Christopher recognized Sammy as one of them.

Now the snow began to fall, and the ground was white. Christopher’s branches were covered with snowflakes, and it clung to his needles.

All the other trees were drifting off to sleep and would stay asleep until spring. But Christopher was wide awake, and he was lonesome. The winter birds had arrived, but they didn’t seem to notice Christopher. He tried calling out to them, but they didn’t even glance his way.

Christopher felt as if the whole world was cruel and cold. He spent his time in silence, shivering in the cold harsh winter wind.

Then, one day when Christopher was feeling bluer than ever, he heard something. It was faint, and hard to hear over the birds chattering in the branches of trees, but Christopher heard it, nonetheless. It was the sound of children’s laughter. Here they came, a bunch of children, and two adults. The children ran towards him, shouting with joy.

“Look! There is a Christmas tree! We want this one! It’s perfect!” They cried, jumping up and down.

The adults laughed, and the man said, “All right kids, we’ll do this one.”

Christopher saw him bend over, and then felt something.

“Timber!” shouted the man, as Christopher toppled over.

“Ouch!” thought Christopher, “Well, at least the snow cushioned me.”

He felt himself be picked up. Then he was carried out of the woods. He saw a house, and he was carried up the walk, and inside. There he was placed in a stand, and a woman poured in some water.

“Please, Mama, can we decorate it now?” the children pleaded.

“Oh, all right.” the woman said, laughing.

Boxes were dragged in and opened. Soon Christopher was covered with lights and ornaments from tip to trunk.

The family stood back to admire their handiwork.

“You know what? I think this is the best tree we’ve ever gotten.” the Father said, with a happy smile.

“I think it’s perfect.” the Mother agreed.

Christopher never before had had such a wonderful time.

“The other trees were wrong!” he thought, “I am useful after all! In fact, if I didn’t stay green year-round, I wouldn’t be here in a warm house, with the best friends that I’ve ever had!”

The End