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A young small spruce tree had grown
In the sprawling evergreen conifer forest
Once decided to celebrate Christmas alone 
In an isolated hamlet that’s the nearest.

It then started to slowly walk on a faint track
In the Christmas eve hours of the cold night
With the blue moon shimmering on its back
Where the snowflakes fluttered, falling light.

At the thinned edge of the receding thicket 
On the crumbling slopes of the rippling hill
An old house remotely hung, grimly isolated
The smokeless chimney on its top stood still.

Through the cracked house’s frosted window
The tree looked inside the room dark and cold
A little girl making a tree of creased paper it saw
For a green Christmas tree they couldn’t afford.

The small tree called the sad little girl to come out
They went together to the nearby freezing garden
She plucked the last flowers for the tree to decorate
The moon made snowflakes on the tree to glisten.

A star descended on the tree from the glowing sky
Finished the decoration sticking on its conical crown
Lending its sparkle to the little girl’s lightened eyes
They celebrated the Christmas they’d never known.

When for the girl bed time came her mother found
Her in deep sleep the fingers curled, smeared in glue
The paper tree in her arms, both lying on the ground
Her dream won't break, it would one day come true.

December 12, 2017.

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