The Magic Christmas Tree

On the day after Thanksgiving, in the most secret place of the forest, a magical thing happens. That’s the day all the trees get together to decide which ones will become Christmas trees. Now although it sounds like an easy task it isn’t, you see there are rules that need to be followed.
To begin with, you have to look like a Christmas tree, in other words you can’t be a willow or an oak or even an elm. As big and nice as those trees are and as much shade as they give and as much fun as they are to climb and play on, they aren’t Christmas trees.
Next, you have to be big and strong, strong enough to hold all the decorations that will hang on you. If the tree isn’t strong enough it’ll fall over from the weight. If it’s too scrawny it’ll look like a twig instead of a tree and if it’s too small there won’t be room for presents and what’s a Christmas tree without presents?
And finally, and everyone agrees that this is the most important rule of all, each and every tree has to know exactly what Christmas is about. Only if you meet these rules can you become a Christmas tree.
Once the trees are chosen, and by the way it takes all day to decide, they’re put on a truck and taken to town where families pick the one they like and take it home for Christmas day.
Now this is something that’s gone on for years and years and years, and that all the trees have always agreed to, that is, until one special tree came along. You see, this one little tree thought he knew better than all the other trees. He thought the rules didn’t apply to him. He thought he was ready to become a Christmas tree. This story is about that tree.
As a rule, trees don’t have names, at least names like we do. They’re not called Jack or Mary or Alice, they have names that we can’t pronounce, only trees can, but in order to make this story easier to tell we’ll call our special little tree John Michael.
From the day that John Michael was planted he always wanted to be a Christmas tree. After all he was the right type, a Douglas fir, the biggest and proudest of all the Christmas trees. And he came from a long line of Christmas trees, his father was a Christmas tree, his grandfather was a Christmas tree, his great grandfather was a Christmas tree, even his great, great grandfather was a Christmas tree, so he knew that one day he was going to be one too.
Being a Christmas tree was all he thought about. In the spring, while saplings were stretching their branches and wiggling their pine needles, helping them to grow bigger while making room for the birds to build nests and raise families, John Michael was off somewhere, daydreaming about being a Christmas tree. In summer, while the trees were letting squirrels and chipmunks run and climb all over them, helping build the strength needed to hold ornaments, John Michael was off somewhere daydreaming about being a Christmas tree. And in the fall, while everyone was learning about Christmas, you guessed it, John Michael was off somewhere, daydreaming about being a Christmas tree.
So when the first winter came that he was old enough to compete, oh, that’s right, there’s one more rule I forgot to mention, you have to be old enough to be a Christmas tree, young ones need not apply. So when the first winter came that he was old enough to compete and it was time to decide which trees would take the truck ride to town and which ones would wait until next year, John Michael knew he was ready, the problem, he wasn’t.
You see, while he was off daydreaming, all the other saplings were getting the exercise they needed to help them grow big and strong. While he was off daydreaming all the trees were learning the meaning of Christmas. While he was off daydreaming all the trees were becoming Christmas trees. And it didn’t take long before even John Michael knew that he wasn’t going to be one of the ones picked.
Like I said earlier, once the trees are selected, they’re put on a truck and taken to town. But before that happens they all get together, the ones that are going and the ones that are staying and have a party to say goodbye. It’s a big party with tears, hugs and lots of celebrating, the perfect distraction John Michael needed to sneak aboard the truck and hide.
o John Michael, Christmas was about the trees. He believed the presents and twinkling lights and silver and gold balls were gifts for the trees. He believed that the families took the trees home to celebrate their beauty and nothing more. Like I said earlier, he never learned the meaning of Christmas, that lesson that had yet to come.
Once the truck got to town it was unloaded and each and every Christmas tree was inspected before being put out for the next day’s sale. But when they got to John Michael they were shocked. They stopped what they were doing and stared at him in disbelief.
“We can’t put this tree out,” one of the men unloading the truck said. “He’s too small. No one will want him.”
“Well we can’t send him back,” the other man answered. “It’s too late for that.” He thought for a moment before continuing. “We’ll just have to put him out and hope some family will take him home.”
The next day was a busy one, John Michael was pushed one way then shoved the other by families looking for the perfect tree. All types of trees were bought, big trees, small trees, fat trees, even skinny trees, all different types of trees, all except John Michael, no one wanted him.
Before long it was December 24th, the day before Christmas, Christmas eve. That meant if no one took him home today his dreams of being like his father, grandfather, great grandfather and great great-grand father would come to an end.
By now almost everyone had their Christmas tree and were getting ready for Santa’s visit. So when the last tree was sold, the last one other than John Michael that is, the two men who ran the Christmas tree lot decided to close early.
“What should we do with this one?” the first man asked, pointing at John Michael.
“Leave him,” the second one answered. “We’ll deal with him after the holidays. Maybe someone will want him for their fireplace.”
“After the holidays,” John Michael repeated to himself. “Fireplace!”
A drop of sap fell from his branches.
“I might have made a mistake,” he confessed. “Maybe the other trees were right, maybe I wasn’t ready to become a Christmas tree. I should have never come.”
“We’re sorry ma’am, but we’re closed”
The voices caught John Michael’s attention.
“And besides, we don’t have any trees left.”
He looked up to see a lady hoping to get in.
“What about that one?” she asked, pointing at John Michael. “Isn’t he a Christmas tree?”
“Well, yes ma’am, he is, but he’s not much of a tree. You’re better off looking somewhere else.”
“I’ve been everywhere else,” she pleaded. “There aren’t any more Christmas trees. That’s the last one. Can’t I please have him? I promised the kids this year we’d have a Christmas tree and I can’t break my promise, not again.
“Please? Please, can’t I have him?”
She put her hands in her pockets and pulled out two handfuls of money.
“This is all I have,” she said, handing them the money. “You can have all of it. Every cent. Can’t I please have the tree?”
The men looked at each other then back at her.
“Kids,” the men asked?
“I run the orphanage. We’re hoping to get a Christmas tree this year. You see we’ve never had one before. We never had enough money. But this year I saved where I could, took on a few extra jobs and, well, this is all I have. I know it’s not much, but it’s the most I can afford. If I have anything left I’m going to buy presents. Candy or something. The children rarely get treats like candy. Can’t I please have the tree? I’ll give you all I have.”
The two men looked at each other.
“Well ma’am,” they started.
“It’s Michelle,” She interrupted. “My Name is Michelle.”
“Well Michelle,” they continued. “That’s the last Christmas tree we have, it’s not very good, but if you think the kid will like it, it’s yours.”
“Thank you, thank you so much. How much do I owe you?”
The men didn’t need think about it, they knew the answer and said it together.
“No charge,” they told her. “We couldn’t take your money for a tree like that. Keep it and use it to buy the kids all the candy they can eat.”
Then they both put their hands in their pockets and pulled out a few more dollars.
“And get them some toys too,” they added.
“Thank you,” Michelle repeated, hugging them both. “Thank you so much.”
Once they loaded John Michael on her car, they wished her a merry Christmas and watched her drive away. But before she left, she gave them another big hug and a kiss on each of their cheeks.
“This is from the kids,” she said as she kissed them.
The children were waiting for her when she drove up.
“A Christmas tree! A Christmas tree!” they shouted surrounding the car.
“Why it’s the bestest Kiss-mas tree I’ve ever seen in my whole life,” the littlest boy added.
Once they took John Michael off the car and put in the front room they started decorating him. They covered him with strings of popcorn and chains made of multicolored paper. They hung stars and angels and snowflakes on him they cut from paper and as they did they laughed and enjoyed themselves.
John Michael watched them, saw their smiling faces and heard their laughter and knew his dream had finally come true, he was the most beautiful Christmas tree anyone had ever seen.
By the time they finished decorating him dinner was ready so they rushed off leaving John Michael alone. He looked around the room for something he could see his reflection in. His search ended on the large window that looked out to the street outside. He took a deep breath, stood up straight, stretched out his branches and looked at himself.
What he saw surprised him.
There were no colored lights, silver and gold balls or presents. Instead there was only handmade paper and popcorn ornaments, clumsily strung together and hanging from his branches.
His branches sagged. Nothing had turned out the way it was supposed to. Instead of being a big beautiful tree with sparkling lights and beautiful decorations he was a small little tree with homemade paper ornaments. His branches drooped and he once again he started to cry.
After dinner everyone the children all returned and took a seat around John Michael. When Michelle joined them she had a book with her that she started reading
The story was about a mean old man named Scrooge who hated Christmas. As she read the story the children recited the words with her as if they’d heard the story many times before.
Once she finished reading the story everyone got up to sing.
They sang about a reindeer named Rudolph and his shiny red nose. They sang about a snowman named Frosty that came to life. And they sang about a little boy and his drum.
When they finished each child was given a piece of candy and sent off to bed, but before they left the little boy who earlier said how beautiful he thought John Michael was, walked up to John Michael and put a picture of Santa Clause that he drew on John Michael’s bottom branch.
“You’re the most boo-tiful tree I’ve ever seen,” he repeated, giving John Michael a hug before following the others to bed.
John Michael thought about all he’d seen the past few weeks. He thought about the families at the Christmas tree lot and the trees they took home with them. He thought about how the children of those families weren’t as excited as these children were to have a Christmas tree of their own. He wondered if it was because the children here at the orphanage never had a tree before? To them the Christmas tree and the small pieces of candy they were given were special. They were things given out of love and not something that was expected?
He thought about Michelle and how she spent the extra money on the children and not on herself and how that made her happier than any gift could.
And he thought about the story he just heard.
The next morning John Michael was awakened by excited children.
“What happened to our tree?” a little boy asked. “He’s big and beautiful!”
“It was Santa! It was Santa!” a little girl shouted. “Santa did it.”
“Big and beautiful?” John Michael thought. “Santa?”
He looked at his reflection and saw something he never expected. He was no longer a small, little tree, he was now big and strong and beautiful. The paper ornaments and strings of popcorn that the children put on him had turned into colorful twinkling lights and silver and gold balls. And under him were presents, lots of presents, enough for everyone there and then some.
The kids didn’t waste time, they grabbed the presents and tore them open, scattering pieces of ribbon and paper everywhere.
“It’s just what I wanted!” one of the children shouted.
“Just what I asked Santa for!”
“What’s going on?” Michelle asked, entering the room.
“Santa came! Santa came!” the kids all answered.
“Those aren’t the decorations that were put on him,” Michelle said staring at John Michael. “And those aren’t the presents I bought. Where did all this come from?”
“It was Santa!” the children yelled. “It was Santa.”
“Santa?” Michelle repeated. “It has to be magic.”
“Not magic,” a little boy said handing Michelle a present of her own. “It was Santa. He brought a present for you too.”
“I got my gift,” Michelle said, setting the present down without opening it.
She wiped a tear from her check as she watched the children play, her thoughts going back to what the little boy had said the day before.
“The most beautiful tree ever,” she said to herself. “The most beautiful tree ever.”