The young girl fairly danced down the sparse hallway of the house, which sat isolated at the end of the now-empty field. "Mama, Mama, come quickly. The boys are here. And they brought a Christmas tree!"

The mother walked out of the kitchen, down the hallway and out onto the porch. She wiped her hands on her apron and rubbed her bare arms in an attempt to keep warm. She asked, "Hijos, what did you bring us?"

A little girl joined the young girl and their mother on the porch. "Is it a Christmas tree? Did they find one? Is it big? Can they bring it in now?" She would never be through with her questions. Finally the two sisters ran down the steps of the tall porch and peeked in the trunk of the old car.

The two brothers laughed as they untied it and showed it to them. "There are many, many trees just a few miles from here, and they told us to pick any one we wanted."

"Come in quickly and warm up. I have a surprise for you." The mother urged the young men to enter the home, for it was December, and the winters were cold in Central Texas.

In the warm kitchen the wood burning stove made sizzling noises as steam rose from a pot, hit the handle of a large container, condensed and fell as droplets of water on the hot black iron. "What smells so good?" asked the younger son.

"Tamales. I just finished making them."

"And where did you find masa here in this part of Texas?"

The wise mother smiled as she answered. "I had to use cornmeal that we bought at the store. The texture is not as fine as the masa we knew in Laredo, but it'll still taste good."

The tree was sawed and hammered into a stand and placed beside a window in the front room of the house. After dinner that evening the young girl approached her mother who sat near the tree mending the family's clothes. "But, Mama, we don't have any decorations for the tree. What are we going to do?"

"We'll think of something, Hijita. Don't worry. Go to bed and manana we'll have an answer."

Central Texas was a long way from Laredo where the widow had spent several years as a seamstress attempting to earn enough money to raise her children. There was some hope that in this part of the state life might be a little better. So far their efforts had not produced much of an improvement.

This particular Christmas season found the family of the widow growing and the resources dwindling. One of her sons was now married and his wife was expecting her first child. The land they had worked on as sharecroppers had produced little more than the money needed to pay for the expense of renting the mules that had been used to harvest the crop. And now Christmas approached, and there was not even enough money for shopping for gifts let alone decorations for the tree.

The next morning the young girl and the little sister walked into the kitchen and found their mother cooking oatmeal. "Hijitas, I have an idea about our tree," she told them.

"What, Mama, what?"

"You know that Christmas is the celebration of the birth of a baby who was born many years ago. Well, we will soon have a baby in this home, also. Remember all the tiny clothes we have been making for the baby that is going to arrive? Let's put those baby clothes on the tree as decorations."

And so they did. Hand crocheted booties hung separately. Some up high and some down low. Tiny white shirts hung here and there. Round and scalloped bibs were tied on branches. Little gowns hung low, and a pretty shawl was spread under the tree. And the scene made everyone smile.

On the cold Christmas morning the girls awoke and found presents under the tree. Again the young girl questioned her mother, "But how did you get us presents, Mama?"

"Well," the mother answered, "remember those senoras who went door to door selling things in Laredo? Since I knew how hard it was for a woman to make a living, I bought things from them from time to time. A box of powder now, handkerchiefs another time, ribbons, perfumes and so on. My trunk is not as full as it once was."

The young girl embraced her mother, "But Mama, you have nothing under the tree. You don't have a present."

"No, hijita, you are wrong. I have all my children near me, and that is the most wonderful present a mother can have. One day you will be a mother, and you will remember what I say, and then you will understand. And don't forget, soon we will have a new baby to love. For me this is a wonderful Christmas!"