The first thing I saw as I emerged from the ground was a line of trees on a snow-covered field. For a long time all I saw were trees and more trees, similar to me in appearance.

After a few years, all the trees beside me were thick, tall and full and I was short and had very few branches. But the good thing was that I was a beautiful green colour. (This always comforted me).

Then all of a sudden a man with a saw cut me down and sent me to an island called Bermuda in the Atlantic Ocean. For about two days I lived in a cold, dark ship which was very uncomfortable. I was squished and confused. Trees were lying all over me and there were shouts of people everywhere.

After that, I was thrown off the ship onto a dock. The climate had certainly changed and where was the snow? I heard a rumour on the way that once you got on the dock you were put into one of two groups. If you were sent to the first group you would be taken to a store where a family would buy you to be their Christmas tree, but if you were put into the second group you would be killed by bug spray.

Oh I prayed and prayed I wouldn't be in the second group. I was so relieved when a worker tossed me in a pile with the trees for sale! I was taken to a store called `Great Things'. We all stood outside the store, while signs were put up saying "XMAS TREES FOR SALE''. People lined up to look at us. A few people examined me and made rude comments about the way I looked. I was very offended.

Every day, more and more trees left with a person. There were fewer and fewer trees every day until I was the last one there. I was very lonely. I wished I had been killed by the bug spray instead of having to go through this torture.

The next day, a man was getting ready to throw me away when a young lady came up to the man and asked how much I cost. He looked at her and said "You can have it for free if you like, though it isn't a nice tree at all.'' The young lady looked at me and said "It'll do.'' I was so excited. I would be like other trees! The lady carefully placed me in her car and took me to a house which obviously wasn't her own. There was an old lady inside who, by the looks of it, was very poor. She stared at me and smiled. "It's beautiful,'' she said.

If I had a face you would have seen how amazed I was. That was the first compliment I had ever received in my life. Ever since I had been a small tree, people would say things like "Oh that ugly thing'' or "Poor tree.'' I felt I loved this lady already. I soon found out she lived by herself except for a cat called `Loquat'. The young lady provided round, shiny balls to put on my branches and a gold star for my top.

When a few elderly people came over to share cassava pie on Christmas Day, the old lady felt very proud when they commented how cozy her house looked with the decorated tree. She smiled with delight.

My Christmas was perfect! Although I may not be called a beautiful tree, I earned the title `The Happiness Tree'.

Artist and writer: Risa Hunter, age 11, depicts her odd shaped Xmas tree. In the story the poor tree only received one compliment during its life.

SHORT STORY COMPETITION CPN