This is a poem based on my childhood memories of Christmases in Michigan.

The Prettiest Christmas Tree




Blankets of snow covered branches in white
As we walked three abreast, mittened hands holding tight.
You swung me between you and Daddy that day,
On a Christmas that seems long ago, far away.

But still, I remember the smell of the pines,
And how they appeared in their uniform lines.
It was my year to choose, so I ran round with glee,
Searching the woods for the best Christmas tree.

The tree that I chose wasn’t full, wasn’t tall,
But crooked, and lonely, and really quite small.
Daddy and you gave a questioning stare,
And I just explained that our tree needed care.

We brought home our tree in a sheet, wrapped up tight,
And dressed it in ornaments, tinsel, and light.
When all work was done, we sat round in awe
Of the prettiest Christmas tree we ever saw!

~Brienne Adams~