We Cut the Tree L. Theil ã 1984 We started cutting our own Christmas trees in 1978, the year that Ben was born. That was the year after Dad brought home a tree so dry it shed needles when you touched it. By the time we took it out of the house after the holidays, that tree was down to bare branches. The next year our neighbor said that he got fresh cut trees at a farm up the road in Zelie. It sounded like a good idea to us. My mom was real glad to stay home with the baby that year because she liked the quiet time for her and Ben. She went with us the next year, though; and we all went every year after that. Tree cutting is somewhere three boys and a girl and a mom and dad can go with very little aggravation. We didn’t need special clothes or a fat wallet. If my mom had her way we would have spent a bundle on big pine wreaths and yards and yards of pine garland. Dad always said, “Not this year.” The tree-farmer displayed the greens in the barn where he s...
Paradox: Even though we're going in different directions we can still walk side by side.