High upon a mountain slope, in wind and rain and driving snow,
A little tree spreads out its roots, and in the rocks begins to grow.
The passing seasons turn around, and as the snow starts drifting down,
The woodsman fells the straight young tree, and brings it back to sell in town.

Soon the tree has found a home, a child of Nature blessed by fate
To grace a spot within a room, while wide eyed children decorate.
With lights and balls and candy canes, and tinsel shining, oh, so bright,
And presents lying at its feet, to bring such happiness Christmas night.

So for a time the tree will stand, a children's delight in a magic land
Of reindeer and elves and a jolly fat man, whose memory haunts us, kind and grand.
But if memory fades with passing years, and feelings dim when magic dies,
Remember, that at times to see, we must look out through children's eyes.