An integral part of growing up and experiencing the Holidays, is the Christmas Tree. I guess I was around 5 years old the first time  I remember the excitement of going with Paw to select our tree. There were several people set up around town selling trees, so Paw put me on his shoulders and off we went to find us a tree. It was cold and rainy, but I was bundled well against the weather. there was a hood on my homemade coat, but for some reason I didn't like it over my head, so Paw took off his old hat and put it on my head. Nothing made me more proud than wearing Paw's old hat. Even though his blading head was exposed to the elements, he didn't mind, because I was his pride and joy, and he was my Paw, my world. We walked and walked (well, he walked and walked, I rode on his shoulders) looking for the right Christmas Tree. He would find one and look it over, then ask me, "what do you think, Bud?"  I always shook my head and said "yep." Paw would laugh at me because I liked them all. I really didn't know what we were going to do with a tree, but if Paw wanted it I did too.

After walking for quite some time, we had not found the right tree. Finally, we had looked at tree after tree after tree and Paw said, "I guess we'll have to go to the woods and cut one down."   "Yeesss!" I thought. I didn't know what 'going to the woods and cutting a tree' meant, but if Paw was going to do it, I was all for it. When we got home Paw told Maw what he was going to do, and that it was too cold for me to go. She agreed and began to remove my coat as Paw started out the door. I screamed as loud as I could. Maw looked at me, Paw stopped in his tracks, my  Mom and sister came running from the dining room, afraid I was being killed. "Well, does that mean he wants to go?" Paw said. I ran to him and he picked me up and put me on his shoulders, and out the door we went, picking up an ax leaned against the wall and he shut the door. Me and Paw were going to get a tree. Before leaving the house Paw had also strapped a pistol to his side and I had Mom to strap my toy pistol to me. I didn't know why, but Paw had his, I had to have mine.

We, or rather He, walked through the woods behind our house, stopping and looking at several trees, before he spotted one just across the creek. "That's it. That's our tree." Paw said. We crossed the creek and he stood back and looked at the tree. "Yep, that's it," Paw said. And I replied, "yep, that's it. I sat on a rock next to the creek, while Paw cut the tree. Tree cut, he reached for me, but stopped, "Look, Bud. Two squirrels." As I sat on the rock, Paw moved over where he could see better, pulled the pistol from the holster and aimed at one of the squirrels. I quickly pulled my toy pistol and aimed a the squirrel, even though I couldn't see it. I heard a 'pop' when Paw shot the squirrel and it fell to the ground. He watched for a few more minutes. I was real quiet. 'Pop' and I saw the other squirrel fall to the ground. "He, He, He," Paw said as he went over and picked up the squirrels and put them in the game pouch in the back of his hunting coat. " Ya hooey," he said. "Squirrel dumplins tonight." I replied "Ya hooey."

I was back on Paw's shoulders as we went back toward home, squirrels in the game pouch, Dragging our tree. I was so excited and proud when we got home.