O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree!
Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Douglas, and welcome to my home on the Christmas tree farm!
Yes, it's that time of year again, when crowds of people walk the aisles here in search of that perfect holiday masterpiece. This season is the reason for my existence, actually. I'm not sure how many holiday seasons I have lived through, but there have been many. I guess if I could see the rings in my own trunk it might be something like ten years, even though it feels much longer.
Ever since I was a young fir, I have dreamed of hitting the big time. I have witnessed so many of my family members achieving greatness, dragged away one by one, bound by ropes and tied snugly to the roofs of various automobiles. It might sound barbaric to you, but to us it signifies something wonderful. You see, on this farm we are all raised with the same dream.
We all aspire to be in your home at Christmastime.
We all want to be decked out in gaudy tinsel and garland. We all want to be the center of attention. We want to have our moment in lights (I've heard the flashing ones are really sweet!).
We long for the day when children open presents in our shadow, when parents gaze at our lighted silhouette while holding each other long after the kids have gone to bed.
Most of all, we long to have a shiny star placed upon our highest bough.
I have had a few brushes with fame over the years myself, like this one time in my youth when a family of five narrowed down their choice to either me or one of my close friends just down the path from me. It was so cute, one of their little children, a boy probably no older than I was at the time, kept begging his parents to pick me. He said he thought some of my awkward lower branches reminded him of the ones he saw on some holiday cartoon or something. He almost convinced them to take me, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. I think he even cried over me. The whole episode broke my heart. But this sort of thing happens alot around these parts. I used to take it personally. Now I just smile, shake the snow off my needles and wish the chosen ones all the best. What else can I do?
We are all trees. We come from the same seeds, each one of us a Douglas Fir through and through.
We are family.
I must say that in spite of those past disappointments, I have learned to enjoy my time here on the farm. Last year I heard many people pass by me and whisper that I am just "too tall", that they would have no place to fit an older tree with a plus-size height like mine. Personally, I love how tall I am. I have a great view from up here. The sunsets on the farm are stunning, and there is never anyone standing in the way of my seeing it. When the snow falls, it hits my top branches first. When the sun shines, I feel the warmth of its rays stronger than anyone else because I am that much closer to it.
And I have gotten close to some of the animals on the farm, too. I always love when my feathered friends stop by for a visit. They sing me the most heartfelt songs, and are always so grateful to have a place to rest their weary wings. Oh, and there are several dogs here on the farm that choose to relieve themselves on my trunk, day in and day out. I have been around so long, they must feel comfortable with me I guess. I mean, they could pick any other tree out here, but they pick me. Summers around here get really hot and dry. I can't tell you how often those little doggy showers have cooled me down!
All in all, I am accepting my place in this world. Sure, I still dream of one day wearing a red and green patterned skirt around my base, and lighting up a living room full of admirers with my dazzling twinkling branches. I understand that it will take just the right family, and just the right house, to make that dream come true. But even if it never does, I will be fine. I have survived lightning storms (my biggest fear!), high winds, even a blizzard or two in my lifetime. If nothing else, I know I am solidly rooted.
Besides, I never really know what happens to all of my long-lost relatives after they are chopped down and carted off to their new homes. What if the dream of being that showstopping Christmas number is not everything its made out to be? And after the glory of the season is over, then what? I don't think the world looks too kindly on old, washed-up Christmas trees. I can't say for sure, but I get the feeling it might not be pretty.
Come to think of it, maybe I'm just fine right here. Maybe I need a new dream. Who knows, maybe I am already living my dream as part of this huge, wonderful farm. At least I know my place here. Could it be that I'm destined for something even greater than simply achieving a few weeks of superstardom?
Yeah. I like that idea.
But WAIT! Hold on. Here comes a family now. They are pointing at me and walking towards me. Now they are touching me. I think they like me!
OK Douglas. Breathe. Carbon dioxide in, oxygen out. Just stand tall and put your best branch forward.
Remember your favorite song, the song that flock of finches taught you all those years ago while nestled amongst your strong green needles. The song that has helped you through it all, the one song that speaks the truth and lets you know you will always be alright, no matter what happens.
"O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are MY branches!"
Yes, it's that time of year again, when crowds of people walk the aisles here in search of that perfect holiday masterpiece. This season is the reason for my existence, actually. I'm not sure how many holiday seasons I have lived through, but there have been many. I guess if I could see the rings in my own trunk it might be something like ten years, even though it feels much longer.
Ever since I was a young fir, I have dreamed of hitting the big time. I have witnessed so many of my family members achieving greatness, dragged away one by one, bound by ropes and tied snugly to the roofs of various automobiles. It might sound barbaric to you, but to us it signifies something wonderful. You see, on this farm we are all raised with the same dream.
We all aspire to be in your home at Christmastime.
We all want to be decked out in gaudy tinsel and garland. We all want to be the center of attention. We want to have our moment in lights (I've heard the flashing ones are really sweet!).
We long for the day when children open presents in our shadow, when parents gaze at our lighted silhouette while holding each other long after the kids have gone to bed.
Most of all, we long to have a shiny star placed upon our highest bough.
I have had a few brushes with fame over the years myself, like this one time in my youth when a family of five narrowed down their choice to either me or one of my close friends just down the path from me. It was so cute, one of their little children, a boy probably no older than I was at the time, kept begging his parents to pick me. He said he thought some of my awkward lower branches reminded him of the ones he saw on some holiday cartoon or something. He almost convinced them to take me, but I guess it wasn't meant to be. I think he even cried over me. The whole episode broke my heart. But this sort of thing happens alot around these parts. I used to take it personally. Now I just smile, shake the snow off my needles and wish the chosen ones all the best. What else can I do?
We are all trees. We come from the same seeds, each one of us a Douglas Fir through and through.
We are family.
I must say that in spite of those past disappointments, I have learned to enjoy my time here on the farm. Last year I heard many people pass by me and whisper that I am just "too tall", that they would have no place to fit an older tree with a plus-size height like mine. Personally, I love how tall I am. I have a great view from up here. The sunsets on the farm are stunning, and there is never anyone standing in the way of my seeing it. When the snow falls, it hits my top branches first. When the sun shines, I feel the warmth of its rays stronger than anyone else because I am that much closer to it.
And I have gotten close to some of the animals on the farm, too. I always love when my feathered friends stop by for a visit. They sing me the most heartfelt songs, and are always so grateful to have a place to rest their weary wings. Oh, and there are several dogs here on the farm that choose to relieve themselves on my trunk, day in and day out. I have been around so long, they must feel comfortable with me I guess. I mean, they could pick any other tree out here, but they pick me. Summers around here get really hot and dry. I can't tell you how often those little doggy showers have cooled me down!
All in all, I am accepting my place in this world. Sure, I still dream of one day wearing a red and green patterned skirt around my base, and lighting up a living room full of admirers with my dazzling twinkling branches. I understand that it will take just the right family, and just the right house, to make that dream come true. But even if it never does, I will be fine. I have survived lightning storms (my biggest fear!), high winds, even a blizzard or two in my lifetime. If nothing else, I know I am solidly rooted.
Besides, I never really know what happens to all of my long-lost relatives after they are chopped down and carted off to their new homes. What if the dream of being that showstopping Christmas number is not everything its made out to be? And after the glory of the season is over, then what? I don't think the world looks too kindly on old, washed-up Christmas trees. I can't say for sure, but I get the feeling it might not be pretty.
Come to think of it, maybe I'm just fine right here. Maybe I need a new dream. Who knows, maybe I am already living my dream as part of this huge, wonderful farm. At least I know my place here. Could it be that I'm destined for something even greater than simply achieving a few weeks of superstardom?
Yeah. I like that idea.
But WAIT! Hold on. Here comes a family now. They are pointing at me and walking towards me. Now they are touching me. I think they like me!
OK Douglas. Breathe. Carbon dioxide in, oxygen out. Just stand tall and put your best branch forward.
Remember your favorite song, the song that flock of finches taught you all those years ago while nestled amongst your strong green needles. The song that has helped you through it all, the one song that speaks the truth and lets you know you will always be alright, no matter what happens.
"O Christmas tree, O Christmas tree, how lovely are MY branches!"
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