The Wonderful Tree – Story for Christmas

The Wonderful Tree
By Christopher G. Hazard
(1922, Western Newspaper Union)

It stood in the corner of a rather needy room. It was festooned with strings of popcorn and cables of cranberries. Wisps of tissue paper and tinsel ornaments were out upon the branches, and small candles stood ready to illuminate the occasion. There were many invisible things upon the tree, too. The imaginations of the children had been as busy as their dreams. Family resources may be limited, but there are no bounds in the realms of Santa Claus and hope. In the magical Christmas time the clouds of poverty are all as gilded and beautiful as any sunset can furnish. Anything may happen then. Cinderella is as hopeful as her more favored sisters; not an urchin but has an expectant eye. So the Tanner Christmas tree was as beautiful as a picture and as full of presents as a picture could be.

But, however pictured by fancy and made of good wishes, the presents were all invisible. No one could see what was in the heads of the dreamers and the hearts of the anxious but needy providers. For weeks the mill had been closed, and now the family pocketbook was about empty. Father Tanner looked at the tree, could not see a gift on it, and shook his head. Mother Tanner was inclined to make the best of it.

Yes, the tree was one of the family. It had been the tree of last year's Christmas and the tree of the year before that. It was a tree that kept its evergreen habit and that did not seem to grow old. It was like a living tree, made to bring forth its fruit every year. It had been so good to them that they had named it Bounty. And now it stood there in the dark, all dressed up, but with nothing but blossoms, without any fruit. It could see the hurrying children running to their morning disappointment. It could hear their cries of surprise and chagrin. Silly Sam, more needy of amusement than the others, would look in vain for his expected go-cart; Sue would miss the two dress patterns for her big doll, her new hat and high chair for her little doll; Bill Tanner would not get his skates; Dick would still need a sled. It was anything but a merry tree.

But it was a wonderful tree. It had a power of making itself felt all over a neighborhood. It could summon Santa Claus by a kind of wireless message that went through walls and everything. It reached as far as the folks who were having a Christmas eve party two blocks away and made them think of Mr. Folsom's mill boss and Mrs. Folsom's laundry woman. They had been wishing for some new fun for their party that day and now it came into their heads to go over and be Santa for the Tanners. So the tree drew a very silent but very busy company to the Tanners' back door.

As the children had left directions for Santa on the table it was easy to find out what the tree was expected to do, so, presently, it did it. There was more, too, than orders for the wanted things; the merrymakers had brought with them enough to satisfy any reasonable tree; there were picture books, picture puzzles, games, a scissors grinder that could make the sparks fly, a train of cars that could go, a doll that could say "mama," and candy enough to go round. For Father and Mother Tanner there was a pocketbook with gold in it, and a note of good cheer that was better than the gold.

So the wonderful tree spent the rest of the night in trembling joy. It could not sleep for thinking of the friendly love that had provided such a happy morning to come. And when the first of the morning light brought all the Tanners downstairs the tree fairly shook with pleasure, amid the wonder and the glee of that Christmas day.

As for the servants of Santa Claus, they had never had such a merry Christmas before. Their hearts were so warm that they did not mind the frost. They sang over the pleasure of giving pleasure and relief. They said they knew that Santa Claus had to live up North so that he could cool off after his warm interest in the happiness of others. They addressed him in verses that must have made him jollier than ever, calling him:

THE MAGIC MAN
There is a man who lives up north
All clad in robes and furs,
And every year he sallies forth
As love his going spurs.

He mitigates the winter's cold
That otherwise would freeze,
And keeps himself from growing old
By tending Christmas trees.

The children for his coming wait,
So do the old folks, too;
Unhappiness goes out the gate
When Santa comes to you.

And their own presents never seemed so large and good before.