Keiser Supply Company, our small town hardware store, received its shipment of Christmas trees in early December. We weren’t allowed to buy one until Momma could borrow Daddy’s truck to bring it home. And since Daddy worked AllTheTime, it was almost Christmas before we finally drove into town for our tree.
Way in the back warehouse where it was chilly, fresh Scotch pines propped against the wall. Momma held tree after tree upright so we could see from every angle.
Momma said until the tree “fell” it was impossible to really know what it would look like.
I didn’t know what she meant.
I thought they were all beautiful.
My sister and I circled through the Christmas forest inhaling fresh, fragrant evergreen until we became so cold, we agreed on a tree.
Mr. Cunningham tied our perfect specimen to the truck bed so it wouldn’t flip out into a field on the way home.
“Momma, should I ride back there with it?” I stared at the tree, worried it would get smashed by Daddy’s tools.
“Don’t be ridiculous. You’ll freeze to death.”
She wouldn’t let me.
|nice little house on the prairie bonnets…|
Grace Grits and Gardening
Farm. Food. Garden. Life.
What if Christmas doesn’t come from a store. What if Christmas…perhaps…means a little bit more? – Dr. Seuss (How the Grinch Stole Christmas)