With so many animals around his trunk, Little Cedar felt strangely warmed. His friends were depending on him for their very lives. That thought gave Little Cedar an extra surge of courage and he gripped that rock just beneath the soil with determination. The wind and sleet hammered him cruelly. He closed his eyes and felt like he supposed a ship at sea would feel if it were tossed about by surging waves.
At last morning came, Christmas Day, and with it came the sun. The wind roared off to the east and Little Cedar felt a sudden stillness throughout his branches. He had survived the Storm of the Century! He, a stunted cedar, growing too far up the mountain, had done battle with a mighty blizzard and won! He gazed down the frozen mountainside. Far below lay the splintered tops of many large, beautiful trees, victims of the wind.
“Oh, Little Cedar, you saved our lives,” whispered a warm and safe Red Squirrel, shaking snow from his tail.
“Thank you for your shelter,” chirped Cardinal. “I can safely fly home now.”
“You are welcome, friends,” answered Little Cedar. “I don’t know how you all managed to find room under my scraggly limbs, but I am glad I could help.”
“Scraggly limbs?” echoed Owl. “Friend Cedar, look at yourself.”
Little Cedar glanced down. He blinked his eyes. Had the storm frozen his brain? Those full, green boughs could not be his!
“Look at our Cedar!” cried Gray Fox. “He is no longer little.”
Little Cedar gulped. “What has happened to me? Did I grow overnight?”
“Yes!” came a chorus of voices.
“But how? Why?” Little Cedar felt that he must be dreaming.
“Last night was Christmas Eve,” Rabbit said. “Wonderful things happen on Christmas.”
Little Cedar was still trying to make sense of this miracle. “Could it have been because you all kept my trunk so good and warm?” asked Little Cedar?
“Perhaps it was because of your warm heart,” hooted Owl. “Your heart is so big that you had to grow to match it.”
Cardinal looked at Gray Fox who shrugged and shook his head. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” Cardinal chirped, “not even when I flew by the people houses. You are far more beautiful than any of their Christmas trees.”
“You are not Little Cedar any longer,” Red Squirrel chattered. “You are now Big Cedar.”
“I like Friend Cedar better,” said the amazed tree. “Perhaps I was put up here on this crag so that I could save your lives during the Storm of the Century. Maybe one day there will be another storm and I can help again.”
“Merry Christmas, Friend Cedar!” shouted the animals.
The morning sun glinted off the cedar’s magnificent green branches. “Merry Christmas, friends,” he said.
–The End–
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