Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Trees (12/05/05)
TITLE: Searching for the perfect Christmas Tree
By Connie Husby
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I ran into my parent’s bedroom and shouted, “It’s time to get up, let’s get our tree!” I was so excited jumping up and down I could hardly contain myself. Dad quietly said, “Get out of our bedroom.” “No, Dad, you said we could get our tree today and it’s already 7:00 in the morning, let’s get going.” Again, only this time in more of a stern voice, “If you don’t get out of our room, we are not going to get a tree today.”
I ran out of their room with big tears dripping down my cheeks, stomped back upstairs into my bedroom, onto my bed and sobbed for what seemed like hours. Suddenly, a knock at the bedroom door, it was dad’s voice saying, “Connie, get dressed, let’s eat breakfast and after the kitchen is clean, we’ll pile in the wagon and find us a pretty tree.
Dad sure didn’t have to say that twice. I jumped out of that tub so fast, grabbed a towel and my robe, and ran down the hallway to my bedroom. I beat a record getting dressed, didn’t care how my hair looked and sat at the breakfast table with my leggings on, waiting for my steaming hot oatmeal. Mom quietly said, “Woke up pretty early didn’t you?” “You know I can’t sleep when it’s time to look for our Christmas tree.” Mom just smiled and dished up the oatmeal. I was getting pretty hot eating at the table with my leggings on, but I didn’t mind it too awful much, because it would be a fun day.
Butchie, our dog kept begging for crumbs from our toast, “You stay here and guard our house, we’re going to be gone a spell, so be good, don’t pee on the kitchen floor!”
Out the door we flew, and we no further got out of the driveway and dad started singing, “O Tannebaum” in Latin, which means “O Christmas Tree.” His deep voice was really something, and I would just sit quietly and listen, trying to recognize the words. Then, Mom would start singing “Jingle Bells.” Her voice was somewhat off pitch but nevertheless, beautiful as I jumped in singing too.
Finally, dad stopped the car and said, “These prices are not too bad, let’s get out and look.” Oh, the smell of the evergreens, there is nothing more fragrant, and the red velvet bows on dark green wreaths made it look like a Christmas winter wonderland. Many families tromped through the snow packed lot looking at the trees with children screaming and throwing snowballs, and each searching for that perfect tree. It looked like each tree was sprinkled with powdered sugar as they glistened in the sun light, oh what a sight. I would pretend I was a princess, and with one stroke of my magic wand the tree lot would turn into an enchanted forest with talking trees.
Before I knew it, dad was dragging the fullest, freshest tree toward the pay stand. I ran to catch up to mom as I tugged at her coat, I said, “Do we have enough money to pay for this?” Mom just bent down and gave me a big hug and said, “Don’t you worry Connie, we save up money each year for the perfect Christmas tree. Your cheeks look rosy red, I bet you are cold.” Dad tied the tree to the top of his station wagon and we sang carols all the way home.
The minute we arrived home, I ran onto our porch and into our house, and couldn’t wait to take my snow covered leggings and mittens off to warm up by the hissing radiator. Before I knew it, mom had made hot chocolate, and boy or boy, did that ever warm up my insides and tasted heavenly too. Dad came into the house and said, “I will bring the tree in tomorrow after it has had a chance to thaw out in the garage.” I didn’t care; I ran up to my dad, hugged and thanked him for buying us the most perfect, prettiest Christmas tree.
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