'Tis The Season: A Wattpad Christmas Countdown

The Symbol of The Season

Day 24
{written by @GracelynCate}

It all starts with a seed—
A single seed and precious time.
Years pass,
Seasons fly by,
And through thick and thin, a young spruce grows relentlessly.

It remains standing through the hottest summer, despite the baking sun;
Through the harshest winter, despite the frigid frost;
Through the happiest spring, despite the pouring rain;
Through the windiest autumn, despite the chilling breeze.
The pine grows...
And grows well.

Its needles, a deep forest green, are full and thriving and its branches sturdy and durable.
It has survived the test of the elements.
Pleased with its stature along with that of its neighbors, workmen drive out to meet them with their axes...
And it is time.

Snow begins to fall lightly,
Men arrive by the dozen,
They slash each trunk in half,
The pain excruciating, yet entirely worthwhile.
The beauty of the end has ensued,
The pine's purpose now begins,
Its roots and stump are left behind,
A monument in honor of its survival:

The pines are carried far far away from familiarity,
Then pitched into a large truck bed.
The car starts,
The engine roars,
Forty-five miles an hour,
A winding country road,
And the trees withstand it all.

The truck pulls up at its destination,
A great white tent,
A shelter from the cold,
A sign that reads: "Christmas trees for sale."

Then one by one the pines are placed,
Underneath the canopy, tied to a stake,
There the spruce stands tall and thriving,
Awaiting its destiny.

Families soon arrive by the dozen,
Look over the tree,
Size it up,
Judge its fullness,
Picture...perfect?
Would the tinsel look good on this one?
The ornaments surely wouldn't hold up on this twig...
The star would nearly topple the whole thing over!
And sure as the families approached the pine, surely they left to evaluate another.

Until one day...

A little girl, small in size, points up at the spruce,
She calls over her mother,
A nod of agreement is produced,
The father comes quickly to see,
A smile is shared,
The family agrees.
The baby laughs and the mother beams,
The search for a tree has finally ceased,
And this one is perfect.

A transaction,
A gesture,
The tree is untied,
The father lifts it up over his head,
The spruce is carried gently,
The snow blows softly,
And the tree is fastened to the roof of a bright blue Volkswagen bug.

The ride proves challenging,
The wind carries away needles galore,
But the tree clings on, determined to make it.
A small house is seen,
The car pulls to a stop,
The family gets out.

A car door slams,
Excited chatter,
The tree is untied,
The father lifts it up over his head,
The spruce is carried lightly,
The snow blows quickly,
And the tree is taken inside the warm home.

The mother points to a spot near the fireplace,
And by the fireplace, the tree is set down.

She shakes her head in disapproval and suggests the dining room,
The father agrees and goes through with the idea,
And by the table, the tree is set down.

She shakes her head in disgust and taps her chin to think,
The tree has to go someplace special...

The little girl points excitedly to the front window, declaring it should go there,
The father and mother nod is unison,
And in the largest window, the tree is set down.
The family exchange glances,
The mother nods in approval,
The father smiles genuinely,
And the little girl giggled with joy.
The tree has found a home.

Tubs red and green,
Glass balls and painted figurines,
Tinsel all silver and gold,
The tree skirt that's nearly a few decades old,
A dozen strands of multicolored lights,
Twinkle and brighten up the newly fallen night.

Then, a great star is place atop the tree,
The family smiles in ecstasy.
The tree is complete.

The pine, although slowly dying, provides the center of all love and joy.
Years pass,
Seasons fly by,
Yet it remains a constant symbol of hope.
Christmastime wouldn't be all aglow without the tree we all love and know.
Thus, it too all ends with a seed—
The seed of joy planted in the hearts of many.