• harveyvickie

The Little Christmas Tree

There was a little Christmas tree

Down in a meadow green,

Although it wasn’t very tall

It was the prettiest ever seen.

But no-one chose that Christmas tree

They thought it far too small,

People came every weekend

Wanting trees wide and tall.

Each year the tree grew by one inch

While others grew two feet,

Though it was loved by all around

It’s life was incomplete.

Till Christmas twenty-twenty came

And visitors were few,

Taller trees got very worried

Unsure of what to do.

For soon they’d all be far too small

To sit inside a room,

Now they wished they hadn’t grown

Their futures all looked doomed.

The little tree stood silent till

One day voices were heard,

A child pulled parents to the tree

“This one” the blind girl said.

“Are you sure?” mum said, solemnly

“The tall trees stand so proud”,

“Yes” said Beth as the axe was honed

To chop it to the ground.

“No wait” cried Beth, “Please dig it up

We need the roots and all,

So I can grow it in the garden

Till it is strong and tall”.

So the tree was excavated

Complete with large root ball,

Put onto the lorries bed and

Taken to the urban sprawl.

Beth bought a nice big pot for it

And Christnmas lights were found,

She spread the lights from branch to branch

Feeling her way around.

On Christmas eve they turned them on

A silent tear was shed,

For though Beth was totally blind

She could see them in her head.

When Christmas time was past and gone

They took the tree outside.

Planted it in the garden where

The tree felt satisfied.

Every Christmas for ten or mor

they’d decorate the tree,

Adorned in tinsel and bright lights

For the family to see.

But little tree got far too big

To stand beside the fire,

Beth bought a false standard one

The tree had to retire.

For five long years it stood alone

Saw Beth married and gone,

Now nought but ivy graced the tree

Where bright lights once had shone.

Beth’s parents died and she moved back

With her little family,

On Christmas eve they stepped outside

It was wet and chilly.

Beth’s husband placed a long ladder

Against the old green tree,

He draped large lights all around

For everyone to see.

And then the big switch on came

The children screamed with glee,

Beth wiped away a single tear

Wrapped arms around the tree.

She smiled, remembered, years ago

When the tree she first found,

Recalling how she’d made poor dad

Dig it from the ground.

A little hand slipped into hers

To guide her back indoors,

They were so young, Beth wished they could

Stay young forevermore.

The moral of this story is

Don’t rush to reach your prime,

Stay young and keep the old magic

Of a child’s Christmas time.


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