The Christmas Tree Lot

The December before Andrew turned two his family went out to cut down a Christmas tree for their home. They drove far down country roads, past quiet fields powdered over with snow until they reached the Christmas tree lot. Then they turned down a long bumpy lane between acres of evergreen trees following the signs for "spruce" and "pine".

Andrew's brother Christopher who was four, was very excited. He knew that the tree they picked would be brought home and filled with lights and sparkling decorations. He also knew that the tree would soon be surrounded with presents! Mysterious boxes wrapped in bright paper with an aura of delightful expectation about them. So Christopher bounced up and down in the car seat and shouted directions at his father.

"Over there Dad," he called. "Park by those cars."

But Dad did not agree. "We don't want to park where all the trees have been picked over," he said. "Besides, Andrew is too little to walk very far."

They continued along the lane until it branched into three parts and chose the track where the snow looked fresh. Two minutes later they arrived at a large stand of seven foot spruce trees surrounded on three sides by a dense thicket of sumac, alder and hawthorn bushes.

"Everybody out!" cried Mom.

They pulled on their caps and mittens and spilled out of the van into the frosty air. Christopher grabbed Andrew's hand and together they trudged between the trees and began to look for the perfect specimen. A short way into the spruces they reached a small clearing and found a lovely symmetrical tree.

"Not too big, not too small and no bare spots" announced Andrew's Dad. He knelt down and began to saw at the bottom of the tree while Andrew's Mom held the lower branches away from his face. Christopher let go of Andrew's hand and tugged determinedly at a nearby bough. This year he was going to help carry the tree back to the van.

Andrew decided that this was a good opportunity to explore his surroundings. He turned his back on Christopher and pushed his way between the spruces. The branches snapped back behind him and he disappeared from sight.

Andrew enjoyed his trek through the trees. He loved to be in motion. His boots made funny little footprints in the snow. The whispering branches seemed to shut out all the noises around him.

But the ground was rough. Several times he tripped over the stumps of last year's Christmas trees and his knees became wet and cold. Still he kept picking himself up and soon he reached the nearby thicket. Andrew knelt down and crawled through a gap in the undergrowth. This looked like an interesting place to investigate.

As he squeezed between the clinging branches his mittens came off. They dangled by their strings from the ends of his coat sleeves. Andrew wished he could put them back on by himself, but that was something only big boys like Christopher could do. He straightened up and continued to toddle deeper into the woods.
Prickly branches caught at his coat. He fell again and his hands splashed into a pool of cold muddy water. As he struggled to get up, a thorn scratched his little cheek and his nose began to run.

Andrew decided he'd better go back. He turned in the direction he had come from and had the nasty realization that he didn't know how to find his Mom and Dad.

"Mama?" Andrew called. He felt very cold and alone. He started to cry.

"What's the matter little one?" said a low, tranquil voice.

Andrew turned to see a lady standing in the snow behind him. She was tall and slender with long, tangled brown hair trailing down to her bare feet. Her face and body were all misty and indistinct but her eyes shone like stars.

"Mama, Dada," said Andrew again. He took a step toward the lady.

"You poor darling," he heard her say. Then he was caught up in her arms. Her silky hair brushed against his face and dried his tears. He cuddled down onto her shoulder. Warmth and peace flooded over him.

"Come," she said. "First I must attend to some of my children and then I will find your parents."

She carried Andrew through the bush. Branches and vines seemed to spring apart for them as they passed swiftly and smoothly along.

The first stop they made was at the edge of a little pond. The water had not yet frozen, and a pair of beavers clambered up onto the bank to greet the lady. She knelt down in the snow and stroked their sleek heads, murmuring to them in a strange language of squeaks and growls. Andrew reached out and touched the back of the nearest beaver. Its fur was soft, but slippery.

The lady gave the beavers one last pat and they splashed back into the pond. Then she rose and set off again.

This time Andrew felt them rise into the air. They ascended smoothly to the top of a nearby tree where a large ball of dry leaves was lodged in the crook of a branch. The lady sat on the branch and made a soft coaxing noise. A little black squirrel peaked out of the leaves and wriggled along the branch toward them. There was something white around its neck.

As the squirrel stole onto the lady's lap, Andrew tried to grab its tail but the lady held him back. Gently and carefully she unwrapped the piece of plastic bag from the squirrel's neck. The squirrel shook out its tail and wriggled back into its nest of leaves.

The lady drew Andrew closer and they descended to the ground. Then they squeezed into a thick clump of bushes where the grass grew higher than Andrew's head. A young deer was curled up asleep on the snow.

The lady sank down and dropped a kiss between the deer's ears. She held Andrew's hand and together they stroked the sleeping animal. The little deer twitched its ears and sank more deeply into slumber.

As she carried him out of the grass, the lady looked down at Andrew with her kind, shining eyes.

"These creatures are my children," she said. "Please help me to look after them." Then she picked a little brown feather from the ground and put it in Andrew's hand. "Let's find your mother," she said.

They walked swiftly to the edge of the thicket. Now Andrew could hear his family shouting for him.

"Andrew," called Mom with an edge of panic in her voice.

"Rooey," yelled his father and Christopher.

The lady set Andrew down and led him around the bushes. Andrew saw Christopher turn toward them. In his excitement, he let go of the lady's hand.

"You got lost, Rooey," said Christopher, crashing through the clearing toward him. "You're in big trouble."

Andrew turned to the lady to wave goodbye, but she was already gone.

Mom and Dad were close on Christopher's heels. They rushed to Andrew and picked him up. "Oh honey," cried Mom, breathless with relief, "Are you OK? We were so worried."

Holding him tightly, they headed back to the van. Once he and Christopher were safely in their car seats, Mom and Dad went back and got the Christmas tree from the clearing. They tied it to the roofrack and drove back down the lane.

All the way home Christopher danced in his seat, trying to control his eagerness to decorate the tree and arrange the presents around it.

But Andrew dropped off to sleep, worn out by his travels. In his hand he still clutched the small brown feather. And as he slept, he dreamed about the kind lady. She wanted him to help look after her children. He would try his best to do what she had asked.

Will you help him?