Tuesday, December 20, 2016

Cutting Our Own Christmas Tree

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We usually went to a tree lot and picked out a Christmas tree, except for one year. I was ten and Jimmy was eight.  My dad was receiving his Navy Officer Supply training in Athens Georgia. We were renting a new home a few miles out from the town and about half a mile behind our house was a pine forest. Since our landlord had given us permission to cut ourselves a Christmas tree, my brother, dad, and I cheerfully headed down the road to the forest. After some careful hunting, we found the perfect tree. It was beautiful with thick branches all around. Dad swung his ax. Down came the tree. Picking it up, we began our trek back to our house.  Shortly, we stopped, panting, and took another look at the tree. We all agreed that it was too large and cut off a few feet from the bottom. We went a little further and chopped off some more. Finally, we arrived at our house with a tree about half the original size. We couldn't get the tree in the door and had to cut off another six feet. We learned that a tree that looks small in a forest can be very large in a house!

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