The Perfect Tree
Searching through row upon row of Christmas trees, my wife Leslie and I picked one we liked. Then I noticed the one being held by a woman nearby “the” perfect tree. I watched as she carried it around the lot and couldn’t believe my eyes when she set it aside.
I ditched ours and ran over to grab the coveted tree. “Aren’t we lucky?” I said to Leslie. “I do feel a little guilty, though, for taking it before she could change her mind.”
“Don’t worry,” she replied. “She just ran over and snatched ours.”
It was the day after Christmas at a church in San Francisco. The pastor of the church was looking over the cradle when he noticed that the baby Jesus was missing from among the figures. Immediately he turned and went outside and saw a little boy with a red wagon, and in the wagon was the figure of the little infant, Jesus.
So he walked up to the boy and said, “Well, where did you get Him, my little friend?”
The little boy replied, “I got him from the church.”
“And why did you take him?”
The boy said, “Well, about a week before Christmas I prayed to the little Lord Jesus and I told him if he would bring me a red wagon for Christmas I would give him a ride around the block in it.