A Baker's Dozen of Christmas What-Ifs

Any Tree In A Storm

The Twelve Prompts of Christmas - Prompt #11

You're surrounded by loved ones.  It's time to go out and find the perfect Christmas Tree.  But who knew a Christmas tree could stir up so much sh*t!

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"Any port in a storm? We don't need a port. What we need is some holiday cheer."

"Great, Dee. You get your sleeping bag to the safe house, and you can go drum up some cheer for the rest of us. Just make sure you're inside by 8pm. They are predicting high winds starting just after sundown."

I now had a mission.

There are few feelings worse than the helplessness of preparing for a tropical cyclone. Like their northern hemisphere hurricane equivalents, cyclones are deadly, fierce, and unpredictable. And the Fiji weather service was forecasting that one was forming and heading our way.

Windows were shuttered, belongings bagged and packed above ground-level, doors sandbagged, generators readied to be locked up during the brunt of it, satellite phones tested, and the grounds crew had been out lopping everything in sight. In the offices, all the equipment was wrapped up in cellophane, and everyone had their emergency go-bag stashed with their bedding. The Ashram cooks had filled buckets with provisions, so it was now a matter of reviewing check lists and heading for shelter to wait.

A hush had taken over the Island, as if Nature were holding its breath. The island cats had headed for the inland caves. Even the fruit bats were swarming, looking for a welcoming tree further from shore.

But it was the day before Christmas, or as we called it here, Danavira Mela, "The Feast of the Hero of Giving." It's a time to be expansive, generous, and happy, not a time to be hunkered down like drowned rats. I just couldn't bear the thought of losing the holiday spirit.

So out I went. First stop, my bedroom. Luckily, the crew hadn't boarded up my door yet. I dug into one of my plastic trunks and fished out a string of battery powered LED Christmas lights. Next, I found my cotton garden gloves. I figured something would present itself that would make a cute and cheery "Divine spirit-tree of light." I took one last look around—this could all be under the sea by morning. I said goodbye to it all and headed towards the jungle.

On my way to the road, I crossed paths with Joy, the head gardener. "You can borrow these snippers. They aren't very sharp, so I won't miss them terribly, but it would be nice to have them back, okay?"

"Yes! Thanks, and I'll see you at the safe house by eight."

I figured the back path, or "shortcut" as we dubbed it, would have plenty of foliage to choose from. Turning off the road, I clambered into the brush, looking for the path. "Mffffmfft!! Ptfft!"Dang spider webs! I had walked face-first into a full-on jungle sized web, spanning the path.

And so my adventure began. In the brief span of a half-hour, I managed to

A) Skin my knees sliding down into a ravine,

B) Cut my gloves and then my hands, attempting to cut down a young palm branch. That says "tree", doesn't it?

C) Step into a wasp nest, coming away with "only" a half-dozen stings on my legs,

D) Get lost, and plow frantically through the bush until I stumbled out onto the village road,

E) and lose Joy's snippers. Sorry, Joy!

I was a dirty, sweaty mess as I trudged back to the safe house. Oh, what I wouldn't give for a shower! But they'd already boarded up the showers. I would have to use my emergency change of clothes, and admit defeat. Tree of light did not seem to be in my future.

I slapped my cargo pockets. The little string of LED lights was still there—at least that survived my glorious, embarrassing foray into the wild.

I caught up with Joy outside the safe house. She was just lopping the tall branches off the plumeria tree out front. I hung back, staring at the ground, feeling completely foolish, trying to figure out how to tell her, "You know, those snippers? I lost them in the jungle". As my eyes cast about for inspiration, I noticed I was standing in the midst of dozens of two-to-three foot long branches with lovely flower-bearing bushes on their ends. Each plumeria branch resembled a small tree. Actually, each one of them could be jammed back into the ground, and would be rooted and flowering again in next to no time. I had found my Tree.

Inside the safe house I propped up my plumeria branch in an empty storage bucket in the impromptu dining zone. I wound the little string of lights around the "trunk", and up into the long, waxy green leaves. I steadied it with a few remnants of the two-by-fours they'd used to secure the shutters. Then I clicked the little button.

"Hey, everyone, voila! Danavira Mela! Christmas! Hanukkah! Candlenights!"

Now I can face the storm, whatever it may bring. And the best thing about my tree, making the whole ordeal worthwhile, is that when the storm has passed, when all the trees are stripped bare, their leaves shredded and covering the sides of buildings in a green paste, our spirit-tree of light can be the start of new life on the island

THE END

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These are my entries into the writing contest.  Thank you so much for taking this journey with me through possible alternate versions of the Universe.   Christmas is a time of great potential.  Perhaps, because of the power of this time of year, there have been many alternate versions of Reality.  Countless alternate futures, each springing forth with its lessons and gifts.

This was a wonderful exercise. I have learned so much by doing it. One big thing I learned is that every person's life is full of stories that other people find interesting, instructive, inspiring, and helpful.  If you are thinking about writing, do it.  Share your stories with others.  They just might contain the help someone needs.