“There’s a free Christmas tree between 5 and 6 feet tall on the corner of 24th and Noe” the ad said. “Come pick it up. Merry Christmas!”
I hesitated before reading the ad to Chanterelle. We had just gotten home from the gym where Chanterelle had sat and watched me work out. I was exhausted, and she was hungry. But eventually, I gave in. I have been a bit of a Scrooge towards Christmas this year up to now, but I knew it was important for her.
I read her the Craigslist ad, and we both sat looking at each other for a minute, having a conversation with our eyes. The posting said it had been posted 48 minutes before. With all the people looking for some recession-compatible holiday cheer, was there even a chance it would still be there?
Still, the reported tree was only a few blocks away from our apartment, and it would likely be our only chance to get one until our money fast ended.
“Let’s go.” I said, not allowing any more time for debate. I put on my large black sweatshirt, and off we went.
It was cold outside, and we dreamed of the smell of pine needles as we walked. Now that we had committed, I wasn’t going to take any chances. I grabbed Chanterelle and pulled her along as I shuffled quickly down the sidewalk. We reached a long hill, and climbed it in triple speed.
“All of these cars are our competition.” I told Chanterelle, and pointed into the street as we ran.
We reached the top of the hill, and my heart sank. We were here. This was 24th and Noe. We were on the corner. But I saw no tree. I prepared to give an ‘oh well’ speech, but Chanterelle shouted out.
“Look! There it is!”
She was pointing across the intersection to an area of the street hidden in shadow. There, hidden in shadow, was an unassuming and quiet little Christmas tree.
The ad had said it was between 5 and 6 feet tall. I had assumed this meant it was one of those short but stout trees, with a trunk as thick as a telephone pole. But much to our delight, this one was small and light.
“This looks brand new!” I said to Chanterelle as I hoisted it into my arms. It was very light.
“It is! Look at the tag…” She squealed. Sure enough, there was a tag attached to one of the upper branches.
Congratulations on selecting a certified “green” Christmas tree that was grown under stringent environmental criteria of the Coalition of Environmentally Friendly Growers.
We looked at each other and smiled. I hadn’t realized it when I had read the Craigslist posting, but this tree wasn’t just abandoned. It was, we realized, purchased so it could be given away to someone who could use one. Perhaps a couple on a money fast?
Our hearts swelled to the size of watermelons, and we both had huge smiles on our faces as I carried it down the hill back to our apartment. We have found alot of things on the street since coming to San Francisco, but nothing made us so happy as this gift.
We were discussing placement of the tree, and Chanterelle was talking about ways she could make ornaments out of paper when I stopped suddenly.
“Hey!” I cried, and Chanterelle looked at me quizzically, “Look!”
There, sitting on a stoop, next to a file-hanger and old red ornamental bottle was a box of old Christmas lights. It was clear they were being given away. We couldn’t believe our luck, and both of us, even as I held a Christmas tree, practically skipped down the sidewalk toward our apartment building.
It was so light, getting it up the stairs was a cinch. It didn’t take long before it sat prominently by the love-seat. The Christmas lights worked perfectly, and Chanterelle had them wrapped around the tree in no time.
That night, I brought back my old collection of Christmas music. As we sat and listened to Christmas albums of the Spice Girls, and the Jackson 5, I smiled and put my arm around Chanterelle, opening my mouth to speak.
“Now it feels like Christmas.”
