Once upon a time many years ago in the village of Flamstead on the mountain where tall trees grow, there were many beautiful evergreens. There were great pines and spruce and shapely balsams and they were always green, even in the coldest of winter. In fact, winter is their very favorite time of year. It is Christmas time and when Christmas comes around folks come to the evergreen forest on the mountain to find their Christmas tree. Every good evergreen hopes to become a Christmas tree.

You see, the fir tree remains green all year round, green, the color of life eternal, the everlasting hope of mankind, all the needles point heavenward, directing man’s thoughts toward heaven and on its crown rest a lovely star.

Every year when the weather turns cold and the first snowflakes start to drift down from the sky the evergreens start whispering and talking among themselves, each hoping to be chosen. Christmas trees must be just the right height and straight with even branches, not too far apart and not too close together. The very top ones must form a perfect star of five little branches.

Of course evergreens are used for other purposes too but they all hoped to be a Christmas tree because Christmas is a very special time of year. It is a season of love, of giving and sharing, a time of hope. It is the birthday of the Christ child, of Jesus, the Lord and Savior, the baby born a king. There is no greater honor for the evergreen than to honor Him.

Tucked far back in the evergreen forest beneath all the other stately evergreens, near the edge of a glen beneath the ash, the oak and the maples grew a very little balsam tree. His name was Ernest. Little Ernest dreamed that someday he too would be a lovely Christmas tree. All the other trees laughed at Ernest.

“You will never be a Christmas tree,” they mocked. “Look at you. You are much to short. Your trunk is all bent and twisted. Your boughs are scraggly. No one would want you for a Christmas tree.” They laughed and laughed. This made Ernest feel sad.

Soon some men came to the forest and began to harvest the evergreens to take to the village and sell. They walked around the tall and stately trees and one by one the best trees were chosen and chopped down. They were placed on sleds and carried to the village. The men didn’t even look at Ernest. Once they even ran their sled right over the top of him but Ernest picked himself back up and stood as tall as he could hoping and wishing someone would want him even if he was just a little tree and not too perfect.