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A little fir tree grew and sighed

     And looked up at his mother,
And in the forest where he grew,

     He'd sisters and a brother.

Of all the trees, there was one tree -

     The greatest of them all:
The father fir stood proudly by

     So dignified and tall.

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The woodcutters arrived one day

      And cut the father down.
Then he was carried on a truck

     To a joiner’s in the town.

 

'He’ll be a mast for a fine ship,' 

      Said the other trees aloud.
'He’ll sail the world and see such things,

     And we’re  so very proud.'
 
'I’m hopeful too,' the small tree said,

      'And hope my life will be
As worthwhile as my father’s life:

     A tall and stately tree.'

But - other workmen then arrived

      And dug up the fir tree:
'Oh goodness me!' he sadly cried: '

      What will become of me?'

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'I’m much too small to be a mast.

      What good in life am I?'
And from the truck you might have heard

      A long, unhappy cry.

The next day, in a market place,

     He sat amongst his friends.
Perhaps you’ll think, sad as it is,

     That here his story ends.

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But no, a family came that day:

     'Oh look!' a small girl said:
'This tree’s the one I'd really like!' 

      And he was filled with dread. 

'What do these children want with me?

      I’m frightened of them all.
I’ll never live to see the day

     When I’ll be big and tall.'

​

They took the fir tree to their home,

     And on its branches placed
Some pretty Christmas ornaments

     With tinsel interlaced.

Then came the Christmas fairy lights,

     And good things you could eat,
And everyone who saw the tree said:

     'Oh, it’s very sweet!'

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The rain came pouring down outside;

     The sky was dark and grey,
But the little fir tree, as you’ll guess,

      Enjoyed his Christmas day. 

With presents scattered round his trunk

      And lights that twinkled bright,
He thought: 'If only Mum were here.  

      She'd murmur with delight!'

​

In the New Year things quickly changed.  

     The lights were taken down
And the children, who'd had so much fun,

     Now wore unhappy frowns.

'Our little tree will sadly die,' 

     He heard the children say.
'He'll never see the summer or

     Another Christmas Day.'

​

Their father said: 'Oh no he won’t.  

     Look, see our tree has roots,'
And off he went immediately

      To fetch his gardening boots.

They found a special place for him

     Where he could grow and grow
And he was planted with much care

     Out in the winter's snow.

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The springtime came and blossom too.

      Then summer’s sun and rain,
But the little tree knew Christmas Day

     Would surely come again.

He’d be taken in the children’s home

      With a smile upon his face,
And he'd be dressed with ornaments

      And take his pride of place.

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Then after Christmas, out he'd go,

     Into the world outside 
But he'd be happy with his life

     And feel a glow inside -

For he's part of a family now,

      Who love their special tree,
And, knowing that you're truly loved,

      Is great, you must agree.

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Copyright on all my poems

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