Will The Littlest Pine Tree Get Its Christmas Wish?

A snowy Christmas story, part 1 of 2

Once upon a time, there was a great forest near a little village. In that forest was a hill with all the same pine trees. Right near the top, there was the littlest pine tree of all. It was so small deer could jump over it. As long as the littlest pine tree could remember, he had fun with his animal friends. They would crawl around him, telling all kinds of stories and playing in the summer sun. The sun would climb up a little less every day. Then one day he saw the other trees, at the bottom of the hill, had leaves in all kinds of colours. His own little needles would stay green. It got colder and a storm came. After it passed, almost all the leaves were on the ground.

He asked his bigger neighbour, “Why are they all bare now? We are still green and full?”

“They are different from us. They need to shed their leaves, poor things.”

“Why do you say: poor things?”

“Because they will never have the joys we evergreens have,” was the answer. The littlest pine tree wanted to ask more, but his neighbour wasn’t listening to him. He asked his friends, but they didn’t know either.

It got colder still. The wind howled through the trees, rattling the needles as if trying to shake them off. The littlest pine tree shivered all night. When the sun came up, it took a long time to feel warm again. The animals all around him frantically searched for food. He called out to the squirrel, who couldn’t even answer with the acorns in its mouth. The hedgehogs responded prickly they had no time to spare. The birds of summer were long gone and the birds that stayed were busily pecking in the leaves for bugs. No time to talk. He saw other little trees a long way away from him. They were taller than him, so when he tried to talk to them, mostly they were busy. Then the first morning came that the white haze on the ground didn’t respond to the sun but stayed on his feet all day, making him tremble. He wished he had heeded the warning of the bigger trees to work harder on getting his feet underground. In the cold and without his friends, it got silent. Even though they slept more, the neighbouring trees were still there. He was glad he wasn’t alone. The ground got covered with snow; the sparkles are prettiest at night in the starlight.

A mysterious star One night, he noticed a star in the sky. Just like that, in the middle of the night. There was this dazzling star that didn’t seem to move at all. Though the others wouldn’t tell him about it, he could feel their excitement. The next morning, a group of men came from the village. He would see a few humans walking around now and then, but they mostly stayed among the other trees lower on the hill. This time they came with big flat things drawn by horses and they had strange sticks. He heard that these were ‘carts and shovels’. They dug out the bigger trees around him and took them away. Without him being able to ask or do anything, suddenly he saw his pine friends being hauled off on the carts. He didn’t understand what was going on or if they would ever be back. There he was, all alone, shivering from fear and cold. The wind could reach him harder and blow colder than before. He saw the other little pine trees better now. It was just them on the hill, though near the other little ones there were more trees to comfort them. He could hear some sobbing and calling for their friends to please come back. Even though he was still the littlest of all, he wouldn’t cry out. He felt he must stay strong. As it got darker, the cries and pleads would cease. Silence reigned over the hilltop from then on.

Days would go by. The littlest pine tree was lonely. The other little trees could shout at the other trees around, but he stood all alone. His needles all drooped, his branches were slack. Sleep was his best companion now. Suddenly one night there were loud bangs. From his position, he could see lights and flashes rising above the trees, coming from where he was told the village would be. He trembled so hard in fear he even shed needles. The other little trees were crying out in fear, shushed by the surrounding trees. He wanted to cry too, feeling sorry for himself that he didn’t even have other trees close enough to shush him. But he didn’t want to give the star who started this all that satisfaction. No one would hear me anyway, he thought miserably.

They’re back! The star was fading more and more. Just as sudden as the first time, the humans came back with their carts. His friends were on them! They were all returned to the soil, dug in deep. Some looked different. Here and there some branches hung broken, one still had something glittering hanging on it, another still had a ribbon on its stem. They all had marvellous stories about what they experienced. The little tree understood little, but he felt very relieved not to be alone anymore. He heard this happen more often when the star was in the sky.

“Did the humans do this? Can I come along next time?” he asked.

“Yes, it is the humans. To come along you will need to be much bigger by then.”

The other trees no longer replied. They talked among themselves about all the wonderful things that had happened. The littlest tree listened but couldn’t understand. If he asked, the answer would only be “You will see when it is time for you to come”.

Time to grow up As the weeks went by and it got warmer, his animal friends came back. He knew there was little time, so he asked them to help him. As much as possible, they brought extra water and all things they could think of to grow. Because grow he must, there was nothing else to it. He was so focused all spring and summer he hardly noticed time passing by until the trees at the bottom of the hill started colouring their leaves again. This spurred him on: grow, grow, groooooooowwwwww.

The animals were busy with food gathering and getting ready for their winter’s slumbers again. The littlest tree hardly noticed in his quest to grow.

The star! The star appeared again on a cold winter night. It stood clear in the night sky. The tree glowed with pride: the humans would certainly choose it the next day. He kept asking the other trees when the humans would come. The only answer would be that he would know when it would be his time to come. He was so preoccupied in his mind he didn’t hear ‘when’ but ‘now that’ it would be his turn… Poor littlest tree. The humans came. Oh yes, they did. And they noticed him. And they went back to the village again. Without the littlest pine tree. However, this time when he looked over, he saw that all the trees left last year indeed got chosen this year. They all were! Except him… All the littlest tree could do was look sad as they left. He wasn’t big enough, after all.

When the bangs and lights rose to the skies, he didn’t even look upward. His branches slumped, he let his needles fall. Now and then he wept with loneliness. Just like last time, the trees came back. Telling stories happily, the one told even more wondrous stories than the other. But the little tree didn’t listen and just stood quietly. He hadn’t made it and he believed he never would…

What will happen to the littlest pine tree? Is he right? Find out in part 2!

Written with the Promptly Written theme “The Reason for the Season” in mind, @ravynehawke.

© 2014–2021 Mireille van Driel — All Rights Reserved

Thank you for reading! 📘 You can find stories and articles on my profile weekly. Leave me a comment to connect and tell me what you think of this post/story.