The Wasatch Behind: Ugly little Christmas tree

By Sun Advocate

Once upon a time, in a forest far, far away, lived an ugly little Christmas tree. He was so ugly the cows used him for a scratching post. He was so ugly the mean little squirrels spit nutshells at him. He was so ugly the pigeons used him for target practice.
Then one day a dumb little kid came into the forest with a dull little saw to get a Christmas tree for Christmas. The dumb little kid stumbled from tree to tree searching for just the right one. All of the pretty trees held their breath and waited to see which one of them the dumb little kid would pick. How surprised they were when the dumb little kid picked the ugly little Christmas tree.
Back at the ranch, the dumb little kid’s mother couldn’t believe that he had picked that ugly tree. She tried to get him to put the ugly little tree in the chicken coop so the chickens could have Christmas too, but the dumb little kid kicked and screamed until his mother let him bring it in the house.
The dumb little kid decorated the ugly little Christmas tree with old ribbons, sticky popcorn balls, and used tin foil. When he had finished his decorating, the ugly little tree looked like a sticky, tin foil covered broom handle with a couple of scraggy limbs.
The dumb little kid’s father had already decorated a beautiful tree in the parlor, and so the dumb little kid’s mother let him put the ugly little tree in the broom closet behind the kitchen door. From a crack behind the door, the ugly little tree could see the beautiful tree in the parlor surrounded by tons of lovely gifts. The ugly little tree stood sad and all alone in the darkness of the closet with only a mop bucket and a rusty mousetrap at his feet.
And then it was Christmas Eve and the dumb little kid’s mother fed him chicken noodle soup and put him to bed. The dumb little kid’s parents watched the late night news with eggnog and fruitcake, and then they too went to bed. It grew very dark in the dumb little kid’s house, and very quiet.
And then�there came very clearly through the crisp night air. Sounds on the roof. What’s going on up there?
And moonlight from the window. Threw a shadow on the floor. As quietly and quickly, someone jimmied the front door.
A fat man crept into the kitchen. It was Santa Clause for sure. And he hung his stupid elf hat, on the ugly tree, behind the door.
Santa fumbled with his heavy sack. Then laid the presents out. At the foot of the beautiful Christmas tree, in the parlor, and round about.
Old Santa was nearly finished. When a noise came from outside. And Santa started cussing. Blitzen! Darn your hide.
Santa’s fat, smart-aleck reindeer had slid down the roof’s steep pitch. And crashed his sleigh of goodies, on its side, in a big ditch.
Santa Clause was angry. Using words we cannot write, he grabbed the ugly Christmas tree and stomped out into the night.
Santa cussed old Blitzen soundly. Waving the ugly tree like a whip. And he kept it tightly in his hand, all night, for the rest of his trip.
Santa dug his sleigh out of the mud, and gathered up his crap. Then laid the ugly Christmas tree, on the seat, across his lap.
And he was heard to exclaim as he roared out of sight, “Screw up one more time Blitzen, and I’ll clobber you tonight.”
The ugly tree was happy. Thinking things turned out all right. Instead of a stick behind the door, he was a reindeer whip on Christmas night.
So if you’re an ugly Christmas tree, or just a dumb little kid, remember this stupid story, and the things the ugly tree did.
Not all trees can be pretty. Not all kids can be bright. But everyone can do his part. On Christmas, or any other night.
The End