Love is a Language

The Perfect Tree for Miss Trelawny

After the adventures in the first snow of Winter, Miss Trelawny had spent the rest of the week pulling out all of the old Christmas decorations and enlisting her charges to help her. It wasn't a difficult task, as the sight of the fluffy white flakes had suddenly reminded the children that Christmas wasn't that far off. They eagerly set about their tasks, taking up every available space with the festive (if slightly worn and well-loved) decorations. There was some giggling among the older girls about some mistletoe, but Miss Trelawny firmly informed them that there would be no mistletoe. Pierre was slightly confused as to what exactly 'mistletoe' was, and the girls were more than happy to inform him. He then took the opportunity to teach Henry the word he knew for the 'kissing plant,' which was gui.

The orphanage didn't have a Christmas tree quite yet, so Miss Trelawny announced at breakfast one morning that all of them were going on a field trip to the Christmas tree farm to pick out the perfect tree. An hour or so later, twenty-two children (Henry hadn't really noticed that their numbers had grown since the newbies had come to the orphanage) were bundled up in their winter gear and trailing behind Miss Trelawny like little ducklings. Henry and Pierre held hands the whole way there, though it was slightly harder to do so when both of the hands being held were covered by thick mittens.

Contrary to the original idea, it was much harder than the children expected to find the 'perfect' Christmas tree. A group of them would find a tree that looked like it could be the one, but someone would point out it was too scraggly. Another tree would be located, but that one was too small. One was too 'poofy,' as one girl put it, another was much too tall, and another one was already losing a good portion of its needles. Their previous excitement was starting to dwindle, giving way to frustration. Even Miss Trelawny was starting to get a little worried.

Luckily though, it seemed that Christmas magic was on their side. As Pierre and Henry came from behind a thin-looking pine tree, they saw what could very possibly be the tree they were looking for. It was tall, but not too tall, and had full branches that pointed heavenwards. The needles looked healthy, and it was the deepest green out of all the trees they'd seen. Standing beside this potentially perfect tree was a harried-looking man with a cap on his head being berated by an irate older gentleman with a prickly-looking beard. As Pierre and Henry approached, the older man left and the remaining one heaved a heavy sigh. When he saw the two little boys, he perked up slightly. "How can I help you boys?" he asked with a charming Scottish brogue. "Lookin' for a tree, hm?"

"Oui, monsieur," Pierre piped up, the sound of his foreign tongue making one of the man's thick brows elevate slightly. "Madame Trelawny wants perfect tree for our orphanage!" The broken English made the other eyebrow come up to the level the first one was at. Henry giggled softly behind his hand-the man's eyebrows were rather funny to watch. "Is this tree not bought?" Pierre inquired, pointing at the evergreen in question. "Madame Trelawny may like it. It's beautiful, no?"

The Scotsman chuckled a little bit. "Aye, that it is," he agreed. "Though the last gent that came by would disagree with you." There was a slightly exasperated note in his voice as he said the last part. Henry had a feeling he had people yell at him a lot about the trees. "But never mind him," the man declared, grinning at the two little boys. "If you think this tree's the perfect one, then it just might be. How long have you been lookin' about?" Pierre and Henry shared a quick glance and shrugged identically. All they knew was that they'd been here a while and hadn't had any luck until now. "Then let's hope and pray this is the one, right?" The Scotsman glanced around for a quick moment. "Where's this Madame you were talking about? Bring her over and we'll see about gettin' this tree for you."

Henry's eyes lit up excitedly. "I bet she'll hear us if we yell for her!" he suggested, including the bushy-browed man in his statement. "On the count of three, yell 'Miss Trelawny!' as loud as you can!" Pierre nodded eagerly, and the bushy-browed Scot chuckled at both of the boys' exuberance. "One," Henry said slowly, "two...three!" And all at once, the two boys and the fully grown male yelled Miss Trelawny's name at the top of their lungs. There was a moment of silence as the three strained their ears to hear some sort of response. "Let's try it again," Henry said after a minute of not hearing anything. Once again, all three raised their voices and yelled Miss Trelawny's name in tandem.