His Mother's Tree

After driving miles along Foothill Boulevard,  he finally spotted  a man tossing rejected pine trees into a pile.  It was December 24th and he had waited too long.  When he approached the man I saw him motion to Tom to help himself to anything of value he could find in the discarded heap of dried needles.  It was one of those times when I knew it was best to say nothing.  At some point we would joke about this but it wouldn't be that day.  He loaded the fire hazard into the back of the Tahoe and said, "Well, it's only for one night."  He carefully set the tree up in the designated spot and then quickly pulled out the vacuum to whisk away the evidence.  He gently placed a few decorations the kids had made at school on the branches, scattered the presents underneath and called it a day.   His mother said the same thing she says every year, "I think that's the prettiest tree we ever had."  This year he went early and had the tree cut fresh from a farm.