EXCERPT

When he was just a boy of three, we went to buy our Christmas tree.
The lot was full and the night was cold, even a flurry or two to excite a three year-old.

I stopped the car and Chris jumped out, all I could hear was a little shout.
“Come on mom, hurry, you’ll see, I can pick out the perfect tree.”
Round and round he ran, looking at every tree, “No this isn’t it; it’s not for me.”

I found a tree that was tall and round; it must have stood 5’ off the ground.
Chris come and look at this big tree,
“No mom, no, that’s not for me, I’ll pick out the perfect tree.”

“Should we leave for the night and come back when it’s light?”
“Oh no mom, I’ll find the tree that’s right.”

The trees came in different shapes and sizes, with branches great for hiding prizes.
There were tall ones, and fat ones and even some thin,
Chris seemed to know what was right for him.

All of the sudden I heard him shout, “This is the tree I’ve been talking about.
Oh mom, this is the tree, the perfect tree, this is the tree I want for me!”

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