The Tiny Blue Tree

The colors blended together to paint the picture. Fall was turning into winter. Green grass was mixing with tan dead grass in the three-acre field behind my home. Around the field, we had cut a track of sorts making the grass of the perimeter low for easier walking. 

I had started down the right side, across the back and turned up the left perimeter when my eyes found the tree. It was the only one in the field and was situated on the left side about two thirds of the way to the back. A few years ago, I spotted the tiny blue pine tree from atop my tractor while bush hogging the tall growth. The color caught my attention, and after seeing it, I could not bring myself to mulch it into oblivion.

Now, I stood looking up at the ten-foot tree in wonder of how much it had grown. Suddenly, memories started flooding back of a sunny December Sunday in 1992 and a man I will never forget.

That Sunday began like most, getting my three little ones ready for church and then rushing them to get to Sunday School on time. Barely making it before 10 AM, I dropped off my eight-year-old twin boys at their class and quickly walked my baby girl, who had just turned seven, to hers. Finally, I slipped in the backdoor of my class to escape anyone noticing that I was late. Late was the story of my life with three children, whether it was school on the weekdays or church on Sunday. I struggled to get us anywhere on time.

My Sunday school class was mostly couples. I didn’t know where else to go after my wife and I had separated in the summer of that year, but I felt so out of place. As the class opened, the leader asked how we could help others in need during the season of Christmas. Now I really felt out of place. 

“Help others?” I considered the question in my head. Not only was I a single dad, but that morning, I was penniless. I had not decorated my apartment and had no idea where I would find any money to buy gifts for my children. 

While I was shrinking in my seat, my eyes caught a glimpse of a special couple at the front. The man had his arm around his wife, and his love for her just beamed. At first, I hurt a little because I did not have that anymore, but the love was so evident that I found myself in admiration of something so special. The couple – Ray and Christie Bradley.

After class, Christie called out to me in the hallway, stopping my usual fast escape to avoid conversation. I sheepishly looked up to see smiles and loving concern on their faces. 

“Do you have a Christmas tree yet?” Christie asked. 

My eyes dropped to look at the floor in shame as I very quietly said, “No”. 

“Well, we want to help you with that,” she continued. “Ray will come over after church to get you.” Ray never said a word, but his signature warm smile lit up the hallway. Then they turned and walked off together.

Still standing there in the hall, I wondered how they knew of my need. How ironic. I was just in a class studying about God, and yet I failed to see that God had led Ray and Christie to help me. All I could see at the time was that I had no wife, a pitiful job that only paid $6.25 an hour, and no savings. I could barely put food on the table and keep the rent paid. And now, Christmas was coming quickly.

Ray arrived at 1:30 PM in front of our apartment building. When I opened the door, his smile was beaming as he said, “Get the kids, and let’s go.” 

We all walked down and piled in his pickup. It was an old, single cab truck but somehow, we all got in. We drove about 15 minutes and then turned on a small, graveled driveway which opened to a big Christmas tree farm. Suddenly, the kids’ eyes lit up with excitement. People were everywhere, walking across the ground looking for a tree, carrying small crosscut saws, dragging trees, laughing, and enjoying themselves. It was a beautiful, festival-like atmosphere. There was even free hot chocolate for everyone at the Welcome Shed, there at Penland Tree Farm near York, SC. 

So much was going on around us that my normally rambunctious children were quietly walking in a straight line taking everything in. They saw a big fire pit. Tractors were pulling trailers full of hay, people, and trees. Mostly, there were whole families wandering around the farm together looking for the perfect Christmas tree to take home.

Ray stood back as we walked into the fields to pick our tree. We searched until we thought we had found the perfect tree. Then, we all voted on which tree would be ours. My twin boys took turns cutting with the saw until they gave up. I finished it off as they yelled, “Timber!” 

We dragged it to the shed where the staff shook out the loose, dead pine needles. While all of this was going on, Ray quietly and discreetly paid for the tree. The workers tied it up tight, and we carried it to Ray’s truck. He threw it in the bed, and we all piled in the truck for the trip home. 

Back at home, Ray made sure we had a tree stand, some lights, and decorations. Then, with his big smile, he waved as he drove away in his truck. Ray could never have known what a huge impact he had on me and my family that day. Maybe he and Christie knew that we needed it, but the impact was monumental. Thirty-one years later, it is still one of the best presents I have ever received.

It was a beautiful day to me because Ray gave me the dignity of taking my kids to get a Christmas tree so we could celebrate the season. I have never forgotten the generosity and love that Ray and Christie Bradley showed for us that day in 1992. 

Going to Penland’s Tree Farm became one of my family’s most loved traditions every year until my kids were grown and on their own.

All those memories flooded over me as I stood looking at the tree in my back field. I was remembering being rescued one Christmas because I had rescued a little, blue-needled pine tree in a field of weeds. 

Isn’t that really what Christmas is? We were little blue trees in life’s field, just waiting to be mowed down. But Jesus came down from above, looked at us with love, and saved us from destruction. He did that so he could give us true life through his very own life.

Ray has lived in heaven with Jesus for many years now, but his legacy lives on here on earth in me and my children every Christmas. 

And today, Jesus wants to show his love for others through you and me.

Merry Christmas to all,

Brad