At least these trees, unlike one Christmas when I was a wee lad, were not stolen.
We had a spruce-tree windbreak on the farm, protecting our frail home from vicious North-westerly winds.
And that Christmas, Dad said to Mom that he intended to go out and steal a Christmas tree by cutting the top from one of those spruce trees.
So, when my Sunday School teacher asked the class whether we had a Christmas tree up yet, I cheerily volunteered that my Dad had stolen one.
That admission spread through the congregation like wildfire!
And, ever since, I have been careful to never steal a Christmas tree, either real or fake.
May you have a Merry Christmas, and may your New Year be the best ever!
