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Show THE XMAS TREE By Roy L. Snaith, In December Rotarian It lay in the dirty snow and slush of the alley, a pathetic and dedrag-gled dedrag-gled little Christmas casualty. Gone were the gay little ornaments that had made it seem like an importation impor-tation from fairyland. Only a few strands of tangled tinsel clung dejectedly de-jectedly to its twigs. Gone were the twinkling lights it had worn so airily a short few days ago. Instead of the glad cries of children dancing about it in exuberant joy was the clatter of the ragpicker's car and the rumble of the big truck that lumbered lum-bered down the alley. It was discarded the most dismal and woebegone sight in all the world. But more pathetic than the little tree were the hearts of those who had tossed it out into the alley. For one glorous day they sang and laughed and exulted in the sheer joy of living. A new spirit came into the house and in their hearts something some-thing gladdening, cleansing, heartening. hearten-ing. Ticker tape .bridge scores were completely forgotten. The making of a living was submerged, for one short day, in the merry-making. All hearts became child hearts again, with no room in them for aught else than kindliness and goodwill. But next morning .mother noticed that the needles were dropping from the little tree and her sense of orderliness order-liness was outraged. She could not be cleaning up after an outworn bit of sentiment. Into the alley it must go. Christmas was over. And next morning father was at the office again .immfersed in the daily grind. Instead of the -shouting children upon his back ,he bore the burdens of great responsibilities upon up-on his shoulders. His voice of yesterday yes-terday ,so soft and tender in the singing of old familiar Chistmas carols car-ols ,could scarcely be recognized in the brusque .snappy tone of the boss as he laid plans for the annual invoice. in-voice. Yes, Chistmas was over. It had been tossed about into the alley along with the little Christmas tree and a joyous, affectionate ,happy family settled back to the normal life of hurry and worry. Occasionally someone rises to protest pro-test the terrible waste of the Christmas Christ-mas trees cut by the millions for the entertainment of the home for but a day. The waste may be serious ser-ious opinions seem to differ. But certain it is that a mighty protest is due against tragic- waste of Christmas. Christ-mas. What a transformation Christmas works in our lives for one brief holiday. holi-day. Families are re-united, mothers are made glad, little children come ! into their own, feuds are forgotten, ) j poverty is ignored .soldiers exchange ; good will greetings with their en- i emies across no-man's land, competitors competi-tors wish one another well, and har- 1 rassed men and women surrender ' everywhere to the universal infection ; of good cheer. ' For one day we really live. The whole world is populated by a race that has become care-free, laughing, and singing, gladsome children again who trust each other and put love whtre suspicion and malice have been. The thing most needed in the banks, general manager's offices and drector's rooms ,as well as upon the ! streets ,in shipping rooms and in factories fac-tories is the triumphant spirit that Christmas brings the spirit of faith, goodwill and mutual trust. Christmas is a spirit. To have that spirit is to lose Christmas, and all its blessed accompaniment of peace and confidence. Anything that increases the spirit of Christmas in the world lengthens life. Did anyone ever try taking tha Christmas tree down to the office with him the day after Christmas? o |