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It's the first storm of the season and I'm feeling quite blessed in this moment. I sit on a plush, comfortable couch with a soft yet sturdy pillow placed behind my back. My legs are crossed, wearing stretchy jeans and I have pink, flowered slippers that coddle my feet. I look beyond my laptop screen and I see the cutest little Christmas tree, standing tall and strong, with each ornament delicately placed along its branches. Christopher, I call him.

He was a tiny yet shapely tree found hidden and thrown in the back of a garden center at a local store. My mother and I stumbled upon the unopened cardboard box in search of a tree we could take home and love. At the time, he was surrounded by other dried out, thrown away mini Christmas trees, and the sight did nothing but hurt our hearts. We knew we could make a difference in the life of this tree, and hopefully in the lives of his friends. So we chose to make a small display where others could experience these beautiful little firs and hopefully take them home to celebrate their essence with their families.

Since giving Christopher a new environment and treating him with care, he now holds most of his needles which were falling quite rapidly at the store. We're proud of our little Christopher and of the simple joys that he brings into our lives.

Beyond our tree, I look through the wooden window shades. I see the picturesque snow falling behind the white beams of the porch and hugging the outline of each tree spread across the lawn. It's calming you see, watching as the snow falls angled toward the ground, in hopes of finding a home there. As the hour continues, the snow compiles in a way that shows a little determination and the right formula can lead to significant change.

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