Long before Christmas, folks begin planning the day. Christmas is the most anticipated day of the year. This Christmas is little changed from last year, and next Christmas won't be much different than this Christmas.

Squabbles are set aside. Everyone is on their best behavior as the smells from the kitchen have mouths watering. Nothing can dampen the spirit of the day. There can never be too many cooks in the kitchen. This aunt or that uncle has a signature dish meticulously prepared,ready for the oven.

The smell of the basting turkey dazzles the taste buds. Is it no wonder the kids race each other to the table to dig in. It's everyone's favorite meal.

There is another star on Christmas. Before the Christmas turkey comes home to be the guest of honor, a search goes on for the perfect Christmas tree. It may be chopped down or shopped for, but each Christmas tree is different. No two are alike and no two are decorated the same way.

Under the Christmas tree are piled gifts that are handed out as the opening act on Christmas day. Without the Christmas tree, where would the gifts go?

The Christmas tree rivals the turkey in taking center stage. The Christmas tree is where the day starts. Gifts are exchanged. The tree's brilliant lights, tinsel, and perfectly placed Christmas balls stand as testimony to the beauty of the day.

I think you will agree, Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without the Christmas tree.

*******

I was very tall. Taller than those who were around me. I was very proud.

Perhaps, I was too proud.

Those around me have always shied away from me. My fellows seemed timid to me. I wanted to be seen as strong and capable. I'm not sure I was.

At first, I laughed about how they reacted to my size. Being young, there was no way for me to know that we were all of the same seed, and each of us was valued in a different way.

My tallness put me head and shoulders above the rest, but what did I have to do with how tall I grew? I can see the dilemma I created in my mind. That which made me most proud, meant little or nothing when it came to value and usefulness. By the time I was full grown and overshadowing the rest, my contemporaries had mostly gone elsewhere. I'd been left on my own. While they were sought after and valued, Leaving me behind. I didn't leave home.

My world, where I'd always lived, had fewer and fewer of my fellows. That's when I became certain that my size had become a disadvantage. I was too imposing, I was passed over and that left me sad.

Maybe if I acted differently Perhaps if I'd been more kind, more friendly, they might not have been so fast to leave. Did I need to lose what I thought little about to discover its value?

I was happier before my friends began to leave. If I knew what I'd done wrong, I could have done better. We can all do better.

*******

"Here it is," Myron Yasgur said with excitement in his voice. "Be careful with the ball. Don't want to damage the root ball. Isn't he a beauty?"

Myron took his time to walk all around the tree he called Sampson.

"You know this tree from all the others in the forest. They all look a like to me, Myron. I'll take your word for it," the park service employee said.

I've been watching Sampson growing for ages. He'll become the central tree now that Goliath has died. Goliath was there when I came to tend the grounds at the house thirty years ago. I've taken a dozen trees or more from this stand of trees. It is as healthy a spot in the forest as I've found."

Myron took pride in planting the trees instead of cutting them down. Myron always knew how important trees were. It's what made him want to be a gardener. He wanted to manage gardens and grounds with conservation in mind. The beauty and good health of plants and trees was what he devoted his life to.

A half dozen men from the parks department began digging. Myron climbed into Sampson's branches and he looked at where the lights would go. The branches were strong and the tree was nearly perfectly shaped.

"You are a beauty," Myron told the tree. "You are beautiful indeed."

Myron watched Sampson growing, never knowing if he'd ever come to replace Goliath, but the biggest tree on the lawn showed signs of weakening over the last year. It was sad to see an old friend die, but Myron knew the tree that would replace him. Sampson was that tree.

Myron had been tending to the gardens at the house for most of his life now. He'd started as a young man when the park service needed someone to tend the grounds at the house. His ideas and techniques were admired by everyone who came and went, and soon, he was the permanent gardener.

Everyone agreed, the gardens and lawns had never been better kept.

*******

I know fear now.

I stood in this place for as far back as my memory goes. Men have surrounded me and they've been digging around my roots. I know not what it means. I don't think I'll stand here much longer. I feel the digging going on.

I don't know what will become of me. I have stood for so long, I can't remember when I was small. I've been here forever. I would rather not leave the forest. The forest is all I know.

What is to become of me?

*******

"Gently now," Myron coaxed. "Don't damage any of his branches. Put the sling ten feet down from the top, and make sure the trunk is plenty stout. If it doesn't appear to be strong enough, move the sling down the trunk."

"Make certain the ball is completely wrapped in burlap. Once you begin to lift the ball into place, make sure it is supported and can't move. Once you lift the bottom sling into place, carefully tie the ball down. If it stays secure, the rest of the tree will stay where it is. It should not shift in transit. The bottom of the trunk is plenty stout. It should hold the tree in place. Take care with the branches. I don't want him damaged."

Myron walked round and round the truck as he issued his orders.

*******

Men are climbing among my branches. They laugh as my prickly nature rubs against their skin. They use wide assemblages they installed on my trunk. I am left feeling dizzy as a big machine has come to lift me out of the ground I'm standing in. I am swinging as men stand beside my roots to steady me.

Another machine waits for my arrival as they begin to lie me down on the bed of the long machine. I can hear it running. There are voices as men talk to one another. They move slowly. They have caused me no pain. They've taken time to fasten me to the bed they're laid me upon.

The gray haired man they call Myron walks around me. He gives directions, "Tie here, not there. Not too tightly. He shouldn't shift."

I was dizzy as they lifted me, but the dizziness has gone now. I was unable to figure out why they are doing this. There is a lot of noise and activity.

I've been laid flat on the long bed behind the machine with a man in it. Ordinarily I can see everything around me. I can see little now that I'm laid low. I do not like lying down. Why must they lie me down. I do not like this disposition.

I feel out of sorts. I'm no longer tall. It has grown quiet as only Myron and the truck driver remain. I've always been able to see the entire world, but I can't really see anything now. I'm not sure all the activity wasn't better than the quiet of my resting place.

I fear what will become of me. I feel no pain. The unknown is painful.

"OK," Myron said. "Can you find the house?"

"I think I have a good idea where it is. I'll be there later this afternoon. You'll be there when I get there no doubt."

I've begun to move. There is a breeze that tickles my branches. It's different. I've never moved before, except in the wind.

There are trees all around me as we seem to be moving in a forest, but I am no longer the tallest tree around. We keep moving and there are smaller vehicles than the truck that carries me. They dart around like angry bees. There are sounds all around and the buzzing bees.

Where am I going? Where will I end up?

I've never laid down before. I'm hardly much taller than things around me. I'm still in motion and we have left any sign of forests or even trees. Everything seems to be concrete and asphalt. There are tall buildings everywhere. Even when I stood tall in the forest, I wasn't as tall as these buildings.

Where do trees go when they come to dig us up? Why did up a tree? I don't like moving, but we are moving further away from my home.

We are stopping and starting now. The buzzing vehicles stand all around us. They move a little. The stop. They move a little more. There are many buildings on all sides. They are taller than I ever was.

We have stopped and the truck driver has gotten out to talk to Myron. Is it the same gray haired man? He looks like the man who was in charge. How can he be in two places, but this Myron seems to be in charge too.

"Watch me. I'll give the stop sign once you are where I want you."

Everything holding me down on the flat bed, has been removed. Nothing is restraining me, but I don't know how to stand up. More machines have moved to lift and support me as Myron guides my root ball into a hole that's been dug.

One machine drops the ball in the hole, and the other stands me up. I am standing on my own as men are busy filling the hole where I stand. I can see forever again. There's a very tall building with a point on the top. It is far taller than me, and there is another big square building at the other end of a great lawn.

There are other trees here. I know them. Needles, Twiggy, Branch, and the trees from my youth are all here, and they are as glad to see me as I am to see them. I like standing tall again. I'm still the biggest tree in the garden, and we're the only trees I can see. Everything is green and nice to look at.

I was afraid of the unknown, but this seems a lot like home, and the mystery over where my fellows went is solved. Here they all are.

As we exchange greetings and talk about where we've been, the work goes on around me, but I don't mind. I know this can't be a bad place to be. Myron is still in charge and directing everyone, before he begins to climb in my branches again. He does this day after day, and it's fun watching him in my branches. He has been quite gentle with me. I expect there are far worse places to be.

There is a big house near by and lots of other people come and go. Myron continues to water me and work in my branches.

One day a man much bigger than Myron has come out to talk to the man in charge. This man is dressed in a suit and tie and walks like he knows just where he is going. Myron is pointing and telling the man about this and that, and the two of them end up standing there looking up at me.

I wanted to look my best for what seems to be an inspection.

"Myron, you do know I can see you working from the Oval. I watched you plant this new tree. Other one died, did it?"

"Goliath was here when I came here. He was old. I couldn't find a record of when he was planted, Mr President."

"You've been watering and and fussing over it for weeks now. This tree is taller than the one you called Goliath, isn't it?"

"Yes, Mr President. It is taller. I've been watching Sampson growing for years. As long as Goliath was healthy, there was no need for him."

"You expected the other one to die?"

"I saw signs he was weakening for several years."

"Myron, why plant a tree. Didn't we use to cut them down?"

"Conservation, Mr President. This tree will be here long after we're gone, and we don't destroy a tree every Christmas."

"I'll take your word for it. This one is healthy? It looks healthy."

"Mr President, Sampson is healthy and strong. Goliath stood here since I came to work here. It was old, and we all die sooner or later."

"How could you say such a thing to your president, Myron. Of course, I'll live forever. Isn't that your plan?"

"No, Mr President, when my time comes, I'll be ready to go. I love my work. I love working at the White House. I like hobnobbing with my president like we are equals, but one day I'll die and leave all this behind."

"I wish you well with that, but I think I want to live forever. A lot to do, you know? No time for dying when you're president."

"Yes, Sir, Mr President. It's always good to have a positive attitude."

"I remember a time when we chopped down Christmas trees. It's got to be easier than all the fussing around you do. We cut our tree for Christmas. After New Years, it went to the wood chipper. Easy peasy, Myron."

"We need trees, Mr President. Cutting trees down to enjoy for a couple of weeks is a poor policy. Trees are important to us, Mr President."

"My word, Myron, don't ever let the voters hear you say a thing like that. You could ruin me. About a billion people want a Christmas tree each Christmas, and you're saying they shouldn't be allowed to cut them down?"

"No, Mr President, I'd never tell people not to have a Christmas tree. What I would say, 'Get your tree with a root ball attached. Once you're ready to take the tree down, plant it in your yard. In a few years you'll have a nice grove of trees."

"You'd say that, would you? I think I'll keep my mouth shut on that one. I couldn't afford to lose a billion votes."

"Yes, Mr President. The trees are the lungs of the earth. If you made a proclamation to plant a million trees a year, we'd have a healthier planet. We need to keep the trees we have and plant many more trees in the future."

"Myron, I'm the president of the United States of America. Why hasn't anyone told me this stuff before? Everyone I talk to tells me, everything is A okay just the way it is. Nothing about trees being lungs or not cutting down trees.."

"I'm afraid there's a lot of money made by cutting down trees, Mr President. When you talk to men who cut them down, 'cutting trees is good business.' but they get rich chopping down trees. They might be telling you what's good for them. I'm telling you what is good for our planet and the people on it."

"You think CEOs lie to their president, Myron?"

"Companies are going to tell you what is expedient. They have one goal, Mr President. They want to make as much money as they can. That assures them of a bigger paycheck. They don't worry much about the people. They let you worry about the best interests of the people."

"Myron, you're my gardener. I mean no offense, you do a bang up job. While our touch football games don't have as much room because you keep planting trees, and I'm not against trees. I like trees. I see you climbing up in the branches. What's that about, Myron? Is there more to it than I can see?"

"Mr President, Sampson is a Christmas tree. I'm making preparations to install the lights. I need to see how best to go about decorating it. I do much of it myself. This will be one of the most beautiful Christmas trees ever, and when you flip the switch, you'll be proud to stand beside Sampson, and when you flip that switch, you want to have confidence the tree will light."

"Oh, my word, Myron, don't even kid about a thing like that. I have nightmares about throwing the switch, the entire world is watching me, and I throw the switch and nothing happens."

"That will never happen with me on the job, Mr President. Rest assured, before you step up to light the tree, I'll have checked and rechecked to be sure when you throw that switch, you'll have the most beautiful tree next to you."

"Every light will light?"

"Every light will light."

"I like the sound of it. I have one question. Why Goliath and Sampson."

"Two towering figures in the Bible, Mr President. Can't go wrong there."

"Towering. I get it. They have been towering trees at the White House."

"You be careful climbing in this tree, Myron. Would do to fall our of the Christmas tree."

"What I do isn't always easy. I go home with my skin irritated from the pine needles, but I need to be sure he decorations are just right."

"I feel your pain, Myron"

"Once you light Sampson, I'll rest easier too. Then, the biggest job I have each year will be done for this year."

"I best be getting back to running the country now. Remember, your president is on the job, Myron, and he's glad to have you on the job too."

The president left Myron and Sampson to walk back to the Oval Office.

*******

While Sampson is in the dark about what his role in all this will be, he couldn't help but notice the people coming.

The people continued to come for hours. There is a buzz of conversation that is soft but steady. They keep coming all afternoon. Everywhere there is a space, someone is standing there.

What do they want here? I've never seen so many people.

The man Myron called Mr President has appeared shaking hands, greeting the people, and he has come to stand above everyone. He has come to stand next to me. Every eye is on him and me. I feel important. It's a new feeling.

That's when Mr President flipped the switch he'd been handed.

There is a brilliant light. It's coming from me. I shine as bright as a star.

"Ohhhhhhhhhh," the crowd gasped as the light met their eyes.

They looked up at me in awe. Every eye is on me.

I stand proud as people come from all over to see me.

I am the National Christmas Tree on the White House lawn.

*******

A Writer's Note:

Can't keep your knickers up? At the end of the work day, do you feel like the horse has been riding you? Did you get your Christmas tree home only to have all the pine needles fall off on to the floor? Can't find anyone who pulls your trigger? Buck up, there are gay literary sites with about a million stories that put LGBTQ+ people where they can be found, everywhere.

My preference is:

Tarheel Writer, tarheelwriter.com.

Jevic hosts my stories with TLC. What's not to like about that?

*******

In the past year, I've posted stories about the Accidental Cowboy and The Gulf & the Gift, book 6 in the Gulf Series.

I've written about a lost gay boy stumbling into team sports at his high school, On Winning. I write about that gay boy, me, having a championship season with my guys in The Team.

I've written about a white boy who is half Pawnee. He lives a dull life, until he decides to go hunting for a grizzly bear in Autumn Allies.

I'm working on Ahead of His Time, a Joe Buck tale, A Run to the Cutting Edge. I'm finishing the year writing A Skater's Mind. A Massachusetts boy moves to California. His prospects for falling in love with a nice boy are improved.

Coming in 2025, an addendum to Gulf 6. In book 7, Dylan finds his voice. Fleeting Fall takes our half Indian boy from Autumn Allies into a new adventure with his one true love, Running Horse.

A Queer Story is a work in progress. Maybe it will be completed this year. It's the story I return to often, but once you write about cowboys and Indians, they're a hard act to follow.

I was given the gift of words. I gladly give them to people like me. If you investigate what I write, you might find yourself in one of my stories.

And if you do feel like the horse is riding you at the end of the work day, you need a new job, and while you look, have a Merry Christmas and the best New Years ever.

Peace & Love,