Miracle On Ron’s Street

Ron Nagasawa
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Wednesday - December 09, 2009
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No doubt, Christmas is a time of miracles. This year, it seems I have already experienced one. Of course, there are genuine miracles and then there are mine. Mine has to do with our purchase of this year’s Nagasawa family Christmas tree.

Having written this column for 12 years, each and every year I have a Christmas tree-buying experience that must be told. That way all other husbands or spouses can commiserate with me. The reason is that my wife is a Christmas tree-buying fanatic. She must have a perfect tree.

That quest has been the fuel for many stressful moments, as my wife for 364 days of the year is a pleasant, reasonable person, but on Christmas tree-buying day she becomes Darth Vader.

Except for this year, that is.


The miracle of 2009 was that my wife found her perfect Christmas tree within five minutes of stepping onto the tree lot. She did not ask to see trees from the container, nor did she scour the grounds to look at every single tree. Her tree was there in a stand as soon as we walked in.

I almost expected a heavenly light to shine down and hear angels blowing their trumpets, but I took in the moment, as is, for one of the greatest in my married life. Not having the proper vehicle, she arranged for me to pick it up the next day. She stressed the importance of ensuring I get “her” tree.

The next day our 12-year-old daughter and I borrowed my brother’s truck and went to get the miracle tree. Everything was going like clockwork as I whistled Christmas tunes and the lot guy wrapped up the tree in preparation of transport.

Just then a woman with three young children in tow shouted, “Stop! That’s my Christmas tree!” She told the attendant that we had taken her tree. I had to defend our ownership of it or die trying. I produced the matching tag and stated that my wife took a twig earlier in order to do a DNA match.

Just then, the woman’s husband yelled from their car, “Honey, I already have the tree loaded.”

She took off and I looked at the lot attendant. He said, “That’s nothing. Last year I had a lady who made me drag out 16 trees from the container.” I tipped him and left, not having the courage to tell him the woman last year was my wife.

Ron’s WEBSITE of the week www.hpu.edu/poetry

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