The story is based on true events from last Christmas, and was published in the local newspaper. It is a cute little reminder of what the true meaning of Christmas--and life, for that matter--really is. Perhaps it's stories like this that we can all refer to when we need a gentle reminder of the things that truly matter in life.
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Every December seems to be a slow moving process getting into the Christmas Spirit for my family. While nearly every household has already purchased and decorated a tree, wrapped gifts for the young and the old, baked and decorated cookies, and set up vibrant Christmas lights on their houses and landscapes, we’ve barely even made a dent in the season’s traditions. As you can imagine, attempting to fit in every customary ritual within the last week or two before Christmas becomes quite a stressful circumstance. This year, exactly 10 days before Christmas, we decided to get started and finally ventured out to find the perfect tree.
After
what seemed to be several hours of searching, and searching, and searching, we
cut down the most perfect, round, and full evergreen to suit our beautiful,
warm country home. Upon arrival to our
house, Mom and I were waiting inside the door, blanket lain down to protect the
bamboo floor, for Dad to bring the tree up the front porch. What happened next was not at all what any of
us expected. As the door immediately
flung open—almost hitting Mom in the back of the head—Dad cried, “Mary
Sue! I have to go. The tree is gone. It must have fallen out of the bed of the
truck. It looks like the rope had
broken.” “It couldn’t be too far gone,”
I said. “I’m sure it’s somewhere on the
side of the road.”
After
about a half hour, with darkness looming upon us, Dad returned with no
luck. “I can’t find it anywhere. It’s getting too dark to see.” After joining hands and asking for some
Heavenly help, Mom and I decided to jump in the truck with Dad for a joint
effort to find this tree. With Dad
looking straight, Mom looking left, and myself looking right—again in pure
darkness, with no light but our headlights and the blanket of white snow on the
ground—we drove several miles with no luck.
The shadow cast by overgrown weeds in low ditches appeared like the
silhouette of an evergreen tree, so several times our hopes were surrendered.
We were almost convinced that someone had come across it and took the tree for
themselves. “Some Grinch,” I said out
loud. “Who would do such a thing?”
When
a few minutes of silence passed, Mom suddenly sat up straight and said, “There’s
a tree sitting there in the snow.” Dad and I assumed it was just a planted tree
at the edge of someone’s driveway, but mom explained that it looked too
lopsided to still be rooted into the ground.
To our surprise, as Dad slowly backed up, we could see the orange tag
from the tree-farm still waiving in the wind.
Someone must have found it lying in the road and propped it up in the
snow, particularly placing it with the orange tag facing the road. When it seemed as if someone had stolen our
Christmas tree, we were delighted to find that the Christmas spirit beamed
bright in the heart of a good man—or woman, or both—on the wintery night of
December 15th.
This
humbling experience was a gentle reminder that Christmas is the season to
give. When spending copious amounts of
money can often be stressful or burdensome, remember the acts of kindness that
offer so much more than money can buy.
So, do something special for someone this Christmas. Write a nice
letter. Sing someone a song. Shovel your neighbor’s driveway, or prop up a
lost Christmas tree. And simply, spend
time with the ones you love. Life is too
short to be a Grinch. So, the Terrasi
family extends our gratitude to the Good Samaritan who found our tree and gave
it a little love. God bless you and your
family, and may you truly have a very, Merry Christmas.
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