The two hundred and fiftieth story!

Once upon a time there was a tree show tried draping herself in lights to hide her lack of leaves.

The two hundred and forty fourth story

Once upon a time there was a tree lined street where all the leaves traded gossip on what trees looked the best in lights.

the hundred and twenty ninth story

Once upon a time there was a tree. Slowly, year by year, she moved closer to a particular rock whom she very much loved. each year, she put out new roots to the left & none to the right.

The hundred and Seventh Story

Once upon a time there was a pinetree who wanted to flower. He knew he couldn't do it on his own, so he made friends with a whole lot of colorful birds, and that was even better,

the Seventy Sixth Story

This tree, when we were walking up to it, was in full bloom- covered in large white flowers that, from a distance, looked like magnolia. As we got closer, some of the flowers started to lift off; by the time we were within a hundred yards, it was bare, and the sky full of egrets

The thirty first story

Today: A story from when my parents were dating- this one has been independently verified by both parties, and they're very differently styled storytellers, so I believe that this story is true in all its details.
My Dad is Jewish. My Mom is... not. Who knows what she is- she was raised some branch of protestant, and believes in santa claus, but not in god. Regardless, she loves Christmas. For a long time during their courtship, my Dad worked for the army and lived in a shack in the Arizona desert. Mom wasn't a desert person, but she would visit regularly. One of these times she arrived very very late on christmas eve. Dad didn't have a tree. Mom was upset. I get different ideas of how upset from each of them- Dad says she was reasonable, she says she was not. Regardless, the end result was Dad, breaking into the base to steal a christmas tree from the lot, tossing it back out over the barbed wire topped fence.