Created By
Rate this Story
Embed
|
+
3
|
If Christmas trees could talk what would they say? |
|
+
4
|
War at Work |
|
+
6
|
Whitie |
|
If Christmas trees could talk what would they say?
Creative
 Created on 4-30-08
 Views(21)
 Story Rating G
|
Well the weather outside is getting cold again. I wonder if I will be taken out of this red box this year. Last year I heard the snow falling and the Christmas music playing but I stayed in my box; the year before too. What could have happened? I don’t know why I don’t get taken up to the living room and used any more. Oh how the children begged to have me brought up. Oh the loving care that their mom took in placing each branch on my metal trunk. Each stem had to be fluffed out just-so. Then she insisted that the lights be put on before even one ornament could be placed. Oh what colorful ornaments they were; red, green, gold and blue. Some of them were homemade by a special grandma; others were gifts from the children, paper bells and Santa faces, plaster figures with glitter and paint. I even had a special stand that would spin me around and around so that every part of my beautiful decorations could be seen.
Christmas morning, that glorious day, the children would come gather around me and wait expectantly for the gifts to be passed out and opened. The squeals of delight and laughter made my branches shake. It was a time of merriment and joy for the family; one of pleasure and pain for me. I love being the center of attention and hearing all the praise of how beautiful I look, but not long after Christmas day I get put away for another whole year. I sit alone and cold, unadorned in my big red plastic box. So I wait patiently month after month to feel the temperature get cold and the carols to be heard, then I know it is about time for me to be displayed once again. But something sad happed to me. I have been forgotten. The family has bought a new tree, a white tree with lights already strung and branches that fold out ready to be fluffed. The bright red, green, gold and blue ornaments and the treasures from grandma my lonely companions. This new white tree must be decorated in a specific way. Only decorations of pastel pink and green or crystal may be put on that tree. So my friends and I sit here, three years this Christmas and pine away for a day when we will be brought out and used once again. “Merry Christmas” I hear them say, “Merry Christmas and a happy new year. But not for me, it is a sad Christmas and an unlikely new year.
I hear the mother and father talking this year. “If you’re not going to use the old tree, why don’t you sell it?” “No” said the mother. “I want to give it to the kids when they grow up.” “It was such a pretty tree and I have kept it in such good condition and it means a lot to me.” Oh such warm and kind words, words that lulls me into a deep sleep. Someday I know and trust that I will be taken out of my big red box and decorated once more with bright glass balls and paper decorations. So I drift out of consciousness thinking “Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.”
Comments
Please Login to post comments
