Katie saw her father’s annoyance and knew enough, even at age eight, to keep silent as he drove all over town through heavy holiday traffic. She did venture a whispered prayer that there might still be one tree left for sale. It was her plea for a real tree this year that sent her Dad on this 11th hour quest. Katie now felt a bit guilty for causing her father to be so frustrated. Yesterday, their old artificial one had finally fallen apart after many years of December display. “Let’s get a real one this year,” had become her hourly request until the parents reluctantly agreed.
Katie could already imagine a tall, stately spruce or pine evergreen standing proudly in its corner, strong branches festooned with sparkling icicles, winking lights, colourful glass balls and chocolate Santa Claus decorations.
The car stopped and Katie scraped away the window ice so she could peer outside. The Christmas tree lot was empty, just like all the previous other ones had been. The large wooden sign blowing in the wind still invited shoppers to select from the dozens of freshly-cut, tightly-wrapped choices. But there were no trees left to buy.
Mr. Cransdon muttered loudly and clambered out of the front seat, slamming the door behind him. Standing alone in the middle of the deserted field, he pulled his parka hood tighter against the driving snow. This was the perfect ending to a rotten day. How could he now face Katie with the bad news? Then he noticed a small trailer parked at the far end of the lot. A faint light glowed from its solitary window. Perhaps someone inside could somehow find him a tree.
Katie watched intently as her father trudged across the powdery snow and rapped on the trailer door. After a moment, she saw an old man emerge, hastily buttoning his jacket in the frigid cold. The two men talked briefly, then disappeared behind the trailer. When they reappeared, Mr. Cransdon was dragging a tree behind him. As her dad approached the car, Katie jumped out with excitement. ‘You did find us a real Christmas tree. Thank you, daddy.”
But Mr. Cransdon did not look any happier than before. Shaking the snow off his find, he held the evergreen up for her to see. “You don’t really call this a tree, do you?
He pointed to the twisted, misshapen trunk which gave the tiny spruce a badly crooked appearance. He sarcastically pulled at a withered frail branch, which instantly broke off at his touch. No wonder every other shopper had already rejected this worthless freak of nature. No wonder the salesman had offered to give it away at no cost. After all, what he couldn’t get rid of by December 25 would have to be hauled away at some expense to the town dump.
Katie then surprised her father. She insisted on taking this sorry specimen home. When he grumbled at her demand she only demanded all the louder. With a puzzled shrug of resignation, he roughly tossed the puny spruce into his trunk and quickly drove off.
Once at home, Katie set to work. Mrs. Cransdon stood transfixed at the living room entrance, amazed at her daughter’s determination to tackle this dubious reclamation project. And Katie worked as if inspired, decorating the little, unwanted tree----branch by branch, hour after hour. Just after midnight, Mr. Cransdon carried his exhausted and unprotesting child up the stairs to her bedroom. Christmas Day would come very early, as it always does in a home blessed with young children.
As the Cransdon family entered the living room, they were suddenly speechless, silent witnesses to the miracle which had unfolded overnight, the one they must have been too tired to notice before bed. The scrawny little tree suddenly looked magnificent. It glowed and sparkled and was so beautiful that no one any longer noticed those frail branches and twisted shape.
Katie was the first to recover. Approaching the tree, she gently touched her little spruce. “Look, Mom and Dad, all my tree needed was for someone to believe in it and to love it.” Her parents’ eyes moistened as they began to understand the real meaning of Christmas.
The Christmas story celebrates the birth of a baby. We tend to forget that the manger where He was born was soon empty. As the Bible describes, ”Jesus grew in wisdom and stature” and began His teaching ministry. He especially had compassion for those marginalized by society -- a tax collector, a Roman soldier, a woman caught in adultery, another divorced several times, a disabled beggar. Each responded to His non-judgmental care and compassion, and their lives were transformed. Jesus saw those whom he encountered, not only as they were, but as they could be...Just like Katie’s little spruce tree.
Christmas Blessings!
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