The Glass Castle- Blog 2

Your Words Become Mine- "This poor old tree isn't going to sell by the end of the day, and it needs someone to love it." (pg 114)

This poor old tree isn't going to sell by the end of the day, and it needs someone to love it...
       It was a week before Christmas. The air was cool and crisp, Christmas lights were shining on Christmas trees, and tacky Christmas inflatables were set up in people's yards. I was seven years old, and I had just watched my favorite Charlie Brown Christmas Special. My mom bundled me up in three jackets, two pairs of pants, two pairs of mittens, two hats, and a pair of warm boots. My parents announced that we were going to get a Christmas tree. I was beyond excited and sang along to all of the cheesy Christmas songs that were playing on our car radio.
       We drove into the cold December night, and I gazed out the window pointing out my favorite Christmas decorations I saw on the houses we drove past. Every house looked so warm and welcoming, and I smiled to myself as I thought about all of the other families enjoying the Christmas spirit.
       We finally reached the Christmas tree farm. I could see groups of people trying to pick out the perfect tree, smiling children, and a warm fire in the middle of it all. I opened the car door and smelled the familiar smell of pine and firewood, and I heard people laughing and enjoying themselves. My family walked up to the trees together and were greeted by a friendly man whose cheeks were rosy from the cold. My parents let me decide which tree to buy, and I took the process very seriously.
       I walked by many beautiful trees, those with the perfect amount of pine needles and the perfect height. Although they were perfect, they didn't interest me. I thought getting a perfect tree was kind of boring. Suddenly, I gasped with delight as I saw my ideal Christmas tree a few feet in front of me.
     It was small, only around four feet tall, a little bit tilted over, and had parts of it that didn't have as many pine needles as others. It reminded me of the Christmas tree Charlie Brown got in the show I watched an hour before, and I desperately wanted to take it home.
     "Mommy, I want this one!" I said.
     "Oh sweetie, that tree is too small, and it won't be able to hold all of our ornaments," explained my mom.
     I folded my arms in frustration and realized I was up for a battle. "But, its perfect in its own way," I argued.
     My dad walked over and asked what was going on.
     "I want this tree daddy. It looks like the Charlie Brown Tree!" I explained.
     I could tell my dad was starting to get annoyed because he was freezing, tired, and was ready to go. "I think we are going to get something that is a lot bigger and nicer," he said.
       I began to cry. The salty tears ran down my frozen cheeks and fell to the ground. My parents looked at me and both smiled.
     "Okay fine, we will get this tree. It will be something unique to have in our house" mom said.
My sad face was replaced with a grin, and I exclaimed, "Thank you so much mommy and daddy! I think Santa will like it too!"
       The friendly man who greeted us earlier tied our tree to the top of our car and invited us to come sit by the fire. I held my parents' hands and laughed with all of the people that were warming themselves. I was enjoying myself, but it was getting late, and I had to go home.
       My family got into the car, and before we left, my mom excitedly said, "We will call it the Charlie Brown Tree, just like you said!" I giggled, and my family drove home, while singing "Jingle Bells" with our little, imperfect Charlie Brown Tree.