12 Days of Christmas

Day #1

Partridge in a Pear Tree

Samuel Mynt sat behind the counter of Beginning Tree Lot, wishing people would stop to admire the trees that came in every year. But the streets and houses were already decorated for the holiday season, with artificial trees. When he'd been offered this job two years ago, he had been warned that people didn't want hand-cut trees anymore and probably wouldn't come. Samuel sighed. Apparently, hand-cut trees shed too much for most people.
     Standing up, Samuel walked into the rows of trees. The small of evergreen wrapped around him, like a warm hug, and he ran a hand across a branch of a single pear tree. "Hello Pear," he whispered. "Maybe someone will want you this year."
     The tree gave no reply, but Samuel noticed a tag hanging on the branch, near the back. Reaching in, Samuel pulled the tag out and read it.
       "Reserved for John Winnter. To be delivered to 12 Day Lane on Dec 1."
   Samuel stared at the tag. Why, today was December 1! Flipping the tag over, he looked for a name of who reserved it. There was no name. Was it a prank? With a name like Winnter, maybe. Samuel shrugged, then reached down and picked the tree up gently, walking back to the main room, where he found a second tag lay on his desk. Leaning Pear on the wall for his staff to load up, Samuel read:
"Delivery to 12 Day Lane (with tree):
1 Tree stand,
2 Boxes of ornaments,
5 Strings of Lights,
1 Star,
1 Partridge plus nest."
    Once again, there was no name. Puzzled by the strange order, Samuel sent it down to the decoration department and within 30 minutes, the boxes, tree, and bird were sitting in Samuel's truck. Getting into the drivers seat, Samuel turned the key and drove out of the tree lot. Main Street was decorated for the holiday season, and the air was filled with the smell of gingerbread. Turning onto Day Lane, Samuel stared at the tall houses that lined the street. This was his delivery? Maybe it really was a prank.
      12 Day Lane was the largest of them all, practically a mansion set on a sprawling lawn. Samuel whistled though his teeth and the partridge flew up to his shoulder. In its beak was a pair of holly berries. Samuel tucked them in between the nest's twigs and placed the partridge into the now festive nest. Picking up the tree, Samuel walked up to the door and knocked. A older man opened it. "Hello," Samuel said. "My name is Samuel Mynt from Beginning Tree Lot. I discovered a reserved tree in your name, Mr. Winnter, along with an order for a partridge."
    "I'm Mr. Winnter." The man said. "And that is a very fine pear tree."
"Indeed it is," Samuel said. "May I bring it inside?"
   "Of course," Mr. Winnter said, holding the door open. Samuel pulled the tree in and Mr, Winnter took the partridge from him. "My word. This is a real partridge." He gasped as the bird whistled and twittered.
     Samuel looked up from the tree. "Of course," he pulled out the tags. "These were on the tree and my desk."
Mr. Winnter looked at the tags. "Well, these are in my handwriting.  Let me show you where I'd like this beautiful tree."
     Samuel fallowed Mr. Winnter though the halls, into a large open room, with red wallpaper and golden snowflakes across it. There were books on the shelves facing the tree and a desk sat beside it. "Tell me," Mr. Winnter said. "Do you still have fur trees at Beginning Tree Lot?"
    "Yes sir," Samuel said. "We do."
"Well, then. Once a week, till Christmas, I'd like you to bring a tree to my house along with ornaments," Mr. Winnter said. "This house hasn't had many trees lately."
     Samuel gapped. Once a week he wanted a tree? This was truly a Christmas miracle. "I can do that sir." He finally said.
Mr. Winnter smiled. "Call me John."

Samuel stayed to help John decorate the tree and watched as John placed the partridge just deep enough to keep the nest up. "My! Look at the time!" John said, looking at the grandfather clock. "You've been here for hours!"
    Samuel looked over. The hands were pointing at 5:36, almost 4 hours afte he had arrived. Standing up from the seat, Samuel extended a hand. "Thank you for you hospitality, John. It was a privilege to be in your home. I'll be back next week with another tree."
     John clasped Samuel's hand. "Son. You have no idea how long I've waited for a day when I'd have company over. Go home and be happy."
    Samuel walked to his truck, and waved to John as he drove out. The older man's words struck Samuel deep. He thought he'd been happy, but maybe he had taken the spirit out of Christmas in his sadness that no one wanted living trees anymore. Suddenly an idea hit Samuel so hard, he pressed the breaks. Why not play a game of Secret Santa for people who couldn't afford trees and give them predecorated trees with a note wishing them a merry Christmas?
    Calling the office, Samuel asked for a inventory of all the trees. They had 14, which gave Samuel 4 to give to John and 10 to give away. Perfect.
    Samuel hurried back, ready to start hunting for people to help.

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        Rachel stood inside the tree lot, a hand covered in ink and a tag sticking out of her pocket. "Yes," She whispered. "This is the first guest."
Then she vanished, hearing the truck dive in.