I was recently looking for a story for a Christmas party at my home. After dinner, we go into the living room and take turns passing around a book as the fire crackles away in the background. Each person reads a bit until they feel like passing the book to the next person. We've read "A Child's Christmas in Wales" by Dylan Thomas several times now. 

 

At a rummage sale a month ago, I bought a beautiful book of Christmas stories for $2. I was wondering, when I made the purchase, how many families and friends had enjoyed the tales from this book. The other day, I was reading through the book and came across the story The Fir-Tree by Hans Christian Andersen.

 

In this story, there is a little fir-tree in a wood. It is a beautiful little tree. It is in a "capital position" and can get sun and there is enough air and it has many tall companions. But the little fir-tree sighed and wished it were larger, "If only I were a great tree like the others!" it said.

 

The years went by and the story moved ahead, year after year, the rings accumulated on the tree marking the passage of time. The birds built nests in its branches and the wild hares danced and jumped about it.

 

But the fir-tree always longed for something else. When it saw some of the very large trees cut down, it asked, "Where are they taken?" And the swallow replied, "I saw new ships as I flew from Egypt, with great tall masts." The fir-tree, said, "Oh if only I were big enough to sail away over the sea, too!"

 

During the winter, when one tree was selected, the fir-tree again asked the swallows where that tree was going. And the swallows said, "Down in the city we have peeped in at the windows. They attain to the greatest splendour and magnificence you can imagine. We have seen them planted in the middle of a warm room and adorned with the most beautiful things - golden apples, sweetmeats, toys and hundreds of candles."

 

"And then?" asked the fir-tree. "Oh we haven' seen anything more than that," replied the swallows. "That is even better than sailing over the sea," thought the fir-tree. "I am sick with longing."

 

Eventually, the tree was the just the right size and height to be selected. And when it was Christmas time, it was the first to be cut down. The fir-tree was sad to leave its home. Sure enough, it was all decked out in a great warm room. Presents were piled at its base. Candles adorned its branches. Then the doors were thrown open and the children rushed into the room and plundered the tree. When the excitement subsided, the children asked for a story. A little stout man came over to the tree and told about Humpty Dumpty who fell downstairs and married a princess.

 

The fir-tree rejoiced at the festivities and thought that perhaps it would fall downstairs and marry a princess too. It rejoiced to think the next day it would be decked out again.

 

But the next day, the servants came in and dragged it up to the attic and put it into a dark corner.

 

After awhile, the fir-tree was befriended by the rats and mice in the attic and told them the grand story of the Christmas celebration and Humpty Dumpty.

 

And in the end, the fir-tree was dragged out into the garden, where it said, "Too late! Too late! If only I had enjoyed myself whilst I could. Now it is over and gone."

 

After I read this story, it made me pause to realize how much I think about what is happening tomorrow rather than enjoying today.

 

And I wanted to share this thought with you because it is also a reason to write down your life stories of today. Write about the moments. Write about the memories, write about how your great Uncle used to play the accordian and how your Aunt Mary burned the pumpkin pie one year.

 

These are the stories that move forward in families and can be forgotten as generations pass. So it's important to share them and remember them so that the children coming later know where they are from.