he year was 1944. It was Christmas Eve. World War II was in full swing and finally going in favor of the allies on both fronts.  I was ten years old and my sister Ardith was twelve.  My Father, who worked in construction as an Ironworker, was on an "overtime" job and was working many hours leaving little time for more than sleeping and working.  My Mother was caught up in all the holiday fervor plus her normal duties as a housewife and mother.  It was getting near sundown, when my sister and I realized that no one had yet bought a Christmas Tree!  Panic gripped us as we went to our Mother and asked her "When are we going to get a tree?"  She said that she was so busy she had forgotten all about it.  My sister and I volunteered, with her permission, to try to find one.  The streets were safer in those days and she agreed.  She gave us some money and told us to go buy a tree and come directly home.

rdith and I started out on our journey.  We knew of several places where trees were sold and went to those first. All of them were either out of trees or closed!  At the places that were open we would ask if they knew of other tree lots that might still have some trees left.  It was dark now and the places we were told about were either places we had already tried or were also closed or had no trees left.  We started asking adults we met if they knew of a place where we could buy a tree.  All to no avail.  Our search had taken us pretty far from home now and we had just about resigned ourselves to the fact that we would be having a Christmas without a tree.

ith tears in our eyes we started on our long trek home. It was starting to snow as we traveled and that picked up our spirits some, but still.......a Christmas without a tree left us very sad.  We decided to take a shortcut across a railroad yard that would cut our trip by several blocks.  On the street just before the rail crossing we saw a man in a heavy overcoat and a fedora hat (they were very common in those days) walking toward us.  We pondered if we should ask him.  He looked very somber.  Aw heck, what did we have to lose, we didn't have a tree anyway.  As he approached, I said "Hey mister!  Do you have any idea where we might be able to buy a Christmas Tree?"  He stopped and looked at us and said "You need a Christmas Tree?" and then "Yes, I think I can help you....follow me."  He turned around and started in the other direction.  We followed him for several blocks until we came to a house where he turned into the gate and asked us to wait.  He went into the house and after several minutes came out carrying of all things a Christmas Tree! He gave it to us and said "Here, no child should be without a tree at Christmas."  We asked how much he wanted for it and he replied "Nothing, I won't be having much use for a Christmas Tree this year" and with tears in his eyes said "My wife died this morning."  We didn't know what to say other than "we're sorry".  We thanked him over and over and then headed home.  My sister was in front carrying the trunk end and I trailed behind carrying the top.  It was snowing pretty hard by now and it was several hours since we left home.

ome of the events of that night sixty-three years ago have grayed with time, but one event that stands out crystal clear in my mind is my sister and I carrying that tree home, in the snow, and singing Christmas Carols all the way.  I'll never forget the feeling.  It turned out to be a great Christmas.  We never did find out who the man was, anything about him or whatever became of him.  Although he was grieving, I often wondered if he realized how much joy he brought to two young kids that Christmas.  I never found out.  I wish I did.  Another thing I clearly remember are the tears in my Mothers eyes when we told her the story. It was her next to last Christmas.  She died two years later on December 1st, 1946.

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