I can feel the crisp winter breezes, see the softly falling snowflakes, and smell the fresh pine perfume of my home in Drysdale's Tree Farm. It is that magical time of the year again. I am filled with anticipation and hope.
Oh, hi! Let me introduce myself. My name is "Sproo" and I am a picea abies. That is just smart alek talk for spruce tree. My name is not exactly original but it is better than being nicknamed Sprout, which I was for many years as I grew up.
Do you have a wish for Christmastime? I do. I want a family for Christmas. I dream of being a Christmas tree, decked out in brightly coloured decorations, wrapped in twinkling lights, and topped with a sparkling star. I want to bring love and joy to a family at Christmas, but I am worried.
For years, the trees around me were selected while here I stood, never chosen. I was small, just a sad puny little seedling. "Hey, Sprout, maybe next year," the other trees would joke as they left with happy families. How I wished to be a grown up tree. This summer when the forester was pruning my branches, I could see the smile on his face. He was proud of me. High on this hill, I have absorbed the sunshine and nourishing rain. I now tower at a graceful seven feet. I do not wish to brag but I am a lush green colour and my sturdy branches could easily hold many decorations and lights.
What am I worried about? Today is already Sunday, December 15. I have still not been chosen by a family. If I do not get picked soon, at the rate I am growing, I will be too tall for a home next year. I could end up as an office building Christmas tree. Yuk! I do not want that. I want a family. I dream of children, lights and laughter.
Happy tree hunters, bundled up against the cold, Swede saws in hand, pass me by every day. Why? I wonder Am I too high up on this hill for most people to climb? Are my short prickly needles not as nice as those on my Scotch pine and Balsam friends? What is wrong with me? But wait....
Oh my gosh, a young girl is headed my way. Ah! Isn't she pretty with that blonde hair peaking out from below her pink toque and that gentle smile on her cheery face. Now she is staring up at me, smiling. And she is even holding one of my branches. Is she imaging how to decorate me? I mustn't get too excited, but maybe, just maybe.
Hey, buddy! Come and see this tree.
Now a young rosy-cheeked boy is running up my hill, laughing as he easily makes his way through the deep snow drifts. I think he must be a skier.
Zachary! Morgan! Where are you?
Here Dad, the pretty young girl calls in answer. Come see!
Oh, Sproo, I excitedly say to myself. This is a family. Please, please choose me. I say a silent prayer.
Mom and Dad, bring the saw, yells young Zachary.
We found our tree, they gleefully yell in chorus, both grinning from ear to ear.
Now Christmas Eve, I have a home at last. I love my family. They have watered me, decorated me, and carefully placed gifts at my base. Morgan cannot pass me without gently touching one of my branches. It is if she is holding my hand. Zachary sits and dreamily stares up at me. I can see my colourful lights reflected in his young face. Such happiness! Tonight, while my family sleep, I will guard my Christmas home and eagerly await Santa's arrival. Tomorrow, lights aglow, I will be part of this family brimming with love, joy and laughter.
My dreams and wishes came true. I am a Christmas tree, a Christmas tree with a family. I am fulfilled. May all of your wishes and dreams come true during this magical season. Merry Christmas!
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