We all have happy memories of the Christmases from our past. Memories of the special little times that define the Holiday season for us. My Sister and I share one very special memory.
The year we stole a Christmas tree.
Before you contact the authorities, let me explain. Back in the eighties, my Sis and I lived far from home. We arrived at our family homestead and discovered our Dear Mother had not gotten around to getting a Christmas tree. A Christmas without a tree?! That would never do! So we hopped in the car in search of a tree.
Unfortunately, by that time, most tree sellers were sold out, and had packed up and moved on. After circling the town we came across a lot with a few trees still left. The lot was closed, and the trees left were pretty shabby. Still, we managed to find one that was somewhat presentable, and after hoisting it over the padlocked chain link fence, we took it home. Hoisting a pine tree over a chain link fence is not as easy as you might think, especially when you are blessed with the "Complete-Lack-of-Coordination" gene that my Sister and I have. We were covered with pine sap and needles, but were happy to have a tree. A "free" one to boot! We spent the rest of the day fluffing up the branches, making the tree look presentable and watching "It's a Wonderful Life", while we decorated it. The tree looked very pretty when we were finished, and, as I said, we thought that the fact we got this lovely tree for "free" was something of a Christmas Miracle.
The next year, we attempted the same stunt at the same lot, and were confronted with a sign that said, and I am paraphrasing here: "IF YOU ARE TAKING A LEFTOVER TREE, PLEASE LEAVE PAYMENT IN THE ATTACHED ENVELOPE". My Sister and I felt bad. Had someone seen us taking a tree, and thought us a couple of Grinch-like criminals? We found a tree, paid for it, and left. That tree didn't have the same "Christmas-Miracle" vibe as the previous one.
The next year, I found an artificial tree on clearance, and that was the tree we used for the remaining years we spent in that house.
For my Sister and I, though, nothing will ever match the magic of our special little stolen tree.