SUFFERING CHRISTMAS TREE
They say that if you creep into an evergreen forest late at night you can hear the trees talking. In the whisper of the wind, you’ll catch the older pines explaining to the younger ones why they’ll never be perfectly shaped. There will always be a bent branch here, a gap there . . . Long, long ago, evergreens were perfect, with each taking pride in branches sloping evenly from crown to symmetrical skirt. Every tree endeavored to grow its branches and needles to perfection. All strained at the task, fully concentrating on their form and appearance. Each vied for the honor of being the Queen’s Christmas tree and reigning in the great castle hall, shimmering with silver balls and golden angels that sparkled in the light of a thousand candles. One cold night, a small pine, who had the promise of being the finest in the forest, heard the yelping of dogs in the thrill of the hunt. As a…
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