There is an ancient pine tree deep in the Forest of Dirgel that stands taller and stronger than any other variety, of its own and others. No one knows when it sprouted nor how long it grew. Perhaps the mysterious forest originated with the tree, or maybe lucky placement gave it enough room and light to stretch to the beckoning sky. But whether it was the first in the forest around it or was the result of a pinecone dropped by tree or animal, it became the reigning presence that lent itself to the old story.

The legend is nearly as old as the forest, itself, handed down from generation to generation; though two pilots recounted seeing the very tree on Christmas Eve, and a rugged ranger, long gone, witnessed it, himself.

On the day before Christmas, goes the story, as the light dims, fading from winter white to periwinkle to black, the moon dips slightly lower in the sky, lighting the forest with its winter beams – a spotlight on the ancient tree. The air, sharp with cold, begins to shimmer with golden flecks of light, turning the night into a velvety backdrop. Then the branches of the tree reach lower, and lower still until they brush the ground. And in the glittering, gleaming night something amazing begins to happen!

Tiny red, blue, and green berries sprout along the soft green needles. Gradually little bits of corn and pumpkin spring up in concert from the branches; and fruit of all kinds drop from the already laden boughs.

Then one by one forest animals begin to gather around the old tree. Some internal knowledge tells them there is a miraculous feast awaiting them as the glittering light breaks through the darkness. First, little chipmunks, fresh from their winter hibernation, peek up from the snow. Then squirrels: gray, red, and brown chatter to each other as they scamper near. Deer and wolves, friends for the evening, sniff the air and begin to munch on the feast. Birds drop down onto the higher branches and lend music to the night when they break from dining on the abundance of the old tree. The quiet of the forest erupts with happy sounds of animals, some very hungry from too many snowy days, as they enjoy the profusion of good food.

And in the still and sparkling Christmas Eve the stars glimmer and shine as they watch the gathering. They know how the legend began, for they saw the One who calls them each by name and hears their songs in the night reach low and create the hidden gift in celebration of another most spectacular gift one silent night long ago.

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