When my first wartime Christmas came, I was in a new soldier school in Ashland and not sure if I could make it home for the holidays. On the afternoon of December 23, we were told some of us would have three-day holidays posted. I was one of the lucky soldiers.
It was Christmas Eve when I arrived home, and a light snow had fallen. Mother opened the front door. I could see over her, into the corner of the living room where the tree had always stood. There were lights all colors shining in the green of the tree.
"Where did it come from?" I asked.
I asked the gate boy to cut it" my mother said. "I wouldn't have had one just for myself, but you called in such a rush! He just brought it in this afternoon."
The tree was almost as tall as the room, and the Tree Top Star was in its place. A few branches reached about a little disorderly at the side, I thought, and there was a big bare branch（树枝） showing in the middle. But the tree filled the room with the pleasant smell of Christmas.
"It's not like the one you want to find, " my mother went on. "Yours were always in good shape and you were good at it. I think the gate boy didn't know where to look for a better one." "Don't worry." I told her. "It's perfect."
It wasn't, of course, but at the moment I understood for the first time, all Christmas trees are perfect.