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Our Three-Foot-Tall Christmas Tree Miracle
The author lives in Colorado, USA.
How could I bring my wife home from the hospital to an apartment devoid of Christmas cheer?
Years ago, after graduating from Utah State University, I accepted a job in Colorado, USA. My wife, Janine, and I had only been married for a few years, and we moved our limited belongings to our new apartment to start the next chapter of our lives.
Both my family and Janine’s lived in Utah, and we wanted to spend our Christmas vacation with them. I diligently saved up vacation time at work so we could spend two weeks with them and other friends in Utah during the Christmas break. We planned to make the drive a few days before Christmas, leaving after I worked a half-day in the morning.
The night before we planned to leave, I took down all the Christmas decorations and got rid of the tree so I wouldn’t have to do it when we returned after the new year.
The next morning, Janine mentioned she hadn’t been feeling well that week. I told her she should probably see a doctor before we left for two weeks. Then I went into work for my half-day.
When I returned home at noon, our apartment was empty. This happened before cell phones, so I didn’t know where Janine was or how to contact her. I sat in the apartment worrying about lost travel time.
Janine called about an hour later. She was in the hospital, and a medical team was about to operate on her. I rushed to the hospital and briefly met with the doctor. He explained that Janine’s life was in danger and that they needed to operate immediately. As Janine and the staff went into the operating room, I went into the waiting room.
Although I’ve always been a strongly independent person, I remember the immense sense of isolation I felt as I sat for what seemed like forever in that waiting room. With the lack of cell phones and the speed in which the events progressed, neither Janine’s family nor mine knew what was going on. The crushing loneliness was almost unbearable as I worried for the life of my young wife.
Finally, the doctor came into the room and announced that the operation was a success. I replied, “Great! Because we’re going to Utah for Christmas.” The doctor was quick to correct me: “Son, you don’t understand. Janine will need to remain in town for two weeks for observation.” Those words hit me hard. “Two weeks?” With the doctor’s statement, I realized we were not going anywhere for Christmas.
Janine stayed in the hospital for a few more days. When we finally drove home after dark, I dreaded entering our apartment, which was now stripped of all holiday cheer.
As we slowly made our way across the parking lot to our apartment, I saw a dark shadow next to our door and wondered what it could be. When we got closer to the door, I realized it was a small Christmas tree. I knew immediately who had left it.
After going inside and helping Janine into bed, I brought our Christmas tree inside. It was clear to me that my buddy Mike had left it for us. Mike was one of the first friends I’d made when we moved to Colorado. He was a college student and a father of two children, so I knew finances were tight for him. The tree he’d brought was less than three feet tall and very thin. By all worldly standards, it might not have looked like much, especially compared with our original tree. But I knew it was the best he could afford, and I felt great appreciation for it. To me, it was a magnificent tree—much better than our original because of the sacrifice it represented from my friend. Nothing could have been a better gift. I spent the rest of the night decorating our new treasure, which turned out to be the most outstanding Christmas decoration that year.
Once we returned home, the ward Relief Society quickly sprang into action and took care of meals for the next few weeks. They also brought entertainment for Janine and me to enjoy while she rested. Many visits from ward members followed. Being new to the ward, we didn’t initially know many people, but we soon got to know many of them from their visits.
That Christmas remains one of my most cherished memories. Mike ended up becoming a lifelong friend from whom I’ve learned many lessons of service. When I think back on this experience, Matthew 25:37–40 comes to mind:
“Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungred, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink?
“When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee?
“Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came unto thee?
“And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.”