The Crooked Christmas Tree by Roger Bonner

Excerpt from The Crooked Christmas Tree

Guschti was a farmer high up in the Swiss Alps. He had a hard life and money was always scarce, which is why he worked at many things to feed his wife and five children.

It was December, when people in the nearby town wanted Christmas trees and Guschti could earn extra money for presents to give his children. So early one morning he hitched his horse, Blitz, to a sleigh and headed for the forest. Blitz means lightening in German but the horse was getting old and could only plod along the path.

Guschti and Blitz stopped on the edge of a small clearing where strong young fir trees grew. Blitz shook his head, making the bells on his harness jingle. Guschti climbed down from the sleigh and pulled out an axe from under the seat. He trudged through the glittering snow to the first tree, a tall fir with even branches that would fetch a good price. He raised the axe and felled it with a few quick strokes, brushed away the snowflakes that had fallen on his cap and bushy beard. Then on to the next tree he went, a medium-sized one with a firm trunk that could bear the weight of many candles and ornaments. This would be a good year indeed.

When he had cut down ten trees, he dragged them to the sleigh and loaded them into the back. Blitz turned his head, steam curling from his nostrils, and watched him. Guschti was about to climb back onto the seat when he noticed a small tree on the edge of the forest. He strode over to it. Its branches were crooked and he thought that it would never grow well next to all the big ones surrounding it. Perhaps he could sell it. He lifted his axe and with one stroke cut it down. He tossed it on top of the others and returned to the farm.

Anna, his wife, was shoveling snow from the walkway leading to the house.

“Why did you chop down such a crooked tree?” she asked when she saw his morning’s work.

“It wouldn’t have grown anyway,” he said. “If I can’t sell it, we’ll use it as kindling wood.”

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