It was a gray dreary winter day. The house felt cold and empty, the weather was drizzly, and a rapidly accelerating runny nose was making me look like Rudolph. Some Christmas cheer was in order. It was time to buy my Christmas tree.
The tree farm I bought from last year was already sold out, so I went to our local produce shop where a few trees still stood in the lot. “Sorry, we don’t have any small ones left,” the clerk said. A particularly tall one caught my eye – densely packed pine needles, a star-ready top and a few ice crystals sparkling in its branches. “I have room in my house for a big tree,” I answered. “I just don’t have room in my car to get it there. Thanks anyway,” I called as I headed back through the parking lot.
“Hey, wait a minute,” he shouted after me. “Take ten dollars off that tree and I’ll deliver it for you. I’ll just follow you back to your house.” Ten dollars off and delivery? Tempting, I thought, but isn’t it too much to ask? I rocked from one foot to the other and pushed my hair behind my ears as I considered the generous offer.
“Really,” he said, “we do it all the time. You go pay my wife inside, and I’ll get the truck.” There were other customers on the lot, but he seemed oblivious to them. When I came back outside, a beat-up pickup held my tree perched in its bed. My house was only about two miles away, but it took ten careful minutes to get there. The clerk followed me slowly, taking the turns gently to protect the tree and its branches.
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