The Forgotten Friend

A young tree experiences the pre-Christmas joy, and post-Christmas scares. Part of the #bepositivewritenowchallenge running on Instagram, for December

“Let’s decorate the tree!”

 

The call went up, and it was the first time in his young life the tree had heard such a term.  But he soon learned how great a phrase that was.  Before he knew it, his branches were being stretched out (and after being cramped in the one position for so long felt bliss) with his feet placed carefully into what looked like slippers, made just for him.  He loved it.  It improved his posture immediately.  But the best part was when the children glistened his branches with tinsel, like colourful spiders passing through, each strand shone with charismatic colours that he had never witnessed before.

 

His branches soon bedazzled with baubles of images of wintery scenes, candy canes with a delightfully teasing scent of sugar, and old carriages each holding a tiny bulb of colour that illuminated the room each time a switch was touched.  The crowning glory for him though was the star-shaped hat that he proudly wore.  This was indeed a great start to his life.

 

The days passed, each one better than the one before, his feet started to be surrounded by packages and boxes with cartoon characters and more outdoor scenes.  He could spy paper with his image on it and immediately felt like puffing out his chest. 

 

Standing at the window, he soon saw other trees like himself appearing in windows, glittering in the dark, like hidden jewels only glimpsed at night between thick curtains.  He gave the nod to each of his kin and felt this was indeed a great time to be alive.  His neighbour, wearing an angel on her head, gave a little wave back, and he blushed.  She looked fantastic, decked out in candles and crimson strands.  He felt his lights glow a little stronger.

 

More days passed and the packages that were opening at his feet allowed him to witness the childish merriment of his family, the children he learned to adore capered above and played games beneath him.  They played hide and seek, using his illustrious branches as secret dens.  They were as part of his daily life as he was of theirs.

 

He noticed the cards of winter scenes and snowmen were soon taken down from the hearth, there were no more colourful boxes to open, and his lights were no longer turned on.  The children spent less time with him, instead were too engrossed by what was in their gifts.  He had become a background figure in their life �" a forgotten friend who had become invisible to their busy eyes and engaged minds.

 

He gazed out the window in puzzlement and sadness and saw a sight that shook him each branch in fear.  The beautiful neighbour he had smiled at so much, was now lying on the street - no longer decked in colour.  The darkness of death had replaced the glow.  Her nettles lost, her branches snapped and destroyed.  Propped up against a bin, the rain slashed over her.  Her eyes never opened again.

 

As fear crept into his heart, he realised this was his fate.  He stood tall one last time.

 

His decorations were taken off him; he was stripped bare of lights.  He still stood tall.  His crown, his precious star, was removed, and he stood there naked.  He continued to stand tall.  Inside he was scared, but he wasn’t going to show it.  His slippers were removed, and he was carefully put next to the door that led to the back garden.  Just then, the young children wandered in and watched him and said goodbye.  He tried to say goodbye by nodding his bare head, but his branches had been pushed up against himself, and he couldn’t move.

 

He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and waited.

 

He was picked up and slung over the shoulder of someone.  He bashed more than a few branches against walls.  He was then slung against the bin, much like his neighbour.

 

He opened his eyes, but there was no bin.  Instead, there was a beam of wood, dimly lit by a single bulb in the roof.  At his feet were his baubles and trinkets.  His crown was there too.  He could spy the children waving at him from a square hole in the ground.

 

“See you next year” were the soft words spoken to him, and his heart burst with happiness. 

Author's Note

Simple christmas story, as part of the #bepositivewritenowchallenge

Enjoy the reading!