The Christmas Tree by Jill; Julie; Weber Salamon

when he spoke again I heard the gentle tone I was used to.
    â€œSee that star, Anna, there at the very top?” he said. “It’s there to remind us of the beauty, even when all we feel is the hardness.”
    Standing there with Sister Frances and the others, I finally understood what my father was trying to tell me, and how much it must have hurt him, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to teach me all the things he wanted to. I felt so proud of him, remembering that moment, and so lucky to have it come back to me. My fears just disappeared.
    I looked around and saw the happiness on the faces of the people who were dear to me, and the strangers, too. I looked for you, but couldn’t find you in the crowd. But the crowd no longer scared me because I could see that the people in it were doing just what my father had said to do. They were looking for the beauty.
    And they found it. My Tree gave it to them.
    He was beautiful, wasn’t he? And I was able to see him, underneath all his finery. It was my Tree after all.
    Everyone here at Brush Creek is still talking about how exciting it all was. Otherwise, everything is pretty much back to normal. I’ve been reading about a new variety of tomato I want to try this summer, and puttering around the greenhouse. I’ll be glad when it warms up and I can get out in the garden again.
    You must come and visit us soon. I’ve told this year’s group of children all about the Christmas tree and about the clever man who chooses it. They think that must be a wonderful job to have. Just come out to the clearing any day in the early afternoon. You’ll find me there, next to the little Norway spruce the children and I planted this week.
    You were right to make me go. You’re a good friend, and for that I thank you.
    I had to sit there for quite some time before I could move. My head and my heart were full. Finally, I put the letter in my desk and walked out of my office, feeling strangely light.
    I saw my secretary staring at me.
    â€œWell, you look a little happier,” she said. “What did you do? Take a nap?”
    â€œWhy shouldn’t I look happy,” I said. “I’m going out to find a Christmas tree.”

Acknowledgments
    Special thanks to Bill Clegg, who lit the spark and tended it with great care, to Elsa Burt for her enthusiasm and help, and to Ann Godoff, Kathy Robbins, Janis Donnaud, and Stacy Rockwood. This has been an affectionate collaboration, and our husbands, Bill Abrams and Frank Weber, have been a loving part of it, as have Barbara and Lew Schwartz, Arthur and Lilly Salcman, and Mud and Marge Abrams. We’d also like to thank Sister Stephen and the others at the Carmel Richmond Nursing Home in Staten Island for helping a dear friend, Bruna Alpini; Sister Sarah of the Corpus Christi Monastery in the Bronx; and David Murbach, manager of the gardens division at Rockefeller Center, who thoughtfully explained the ins-and-outs of finding the perfect Christmas tree. We love Christmas at Rockefeller Center so, though we’ve never met the Sisters of Christian Charity in Mendham, New Jersey, we appreciated their gift of a tree in 1995, which touched our hearts and imagination and led us to create our story and pictures.

About the Author
    Julie Salamon is an award-winning author and journalist. She has been a reporter and film critic for the Wall Street Journal and the New York Times , and her work has appeared in the New Yorker , Vanity Fair , Vogue ,and Harper’s Bazaar , among other publications. Her books include Wendy and the Lost Boys , a biography of playwright Wendy Wasserstein; The Devil’s Candy , a behind-the-scenes account of the 1980s box-office flop Bonfire of the Vanities ; and, with illustrator Jill Weber, the New York Times bestseller The Christmas Tree , as well as two middle-grade novels, Mutt’s Promise an d Cat in the City. Salamon is also chair of the Bowery Residents’