He was a woodcutter and lived in the woods near the village with his child. Even that year Christmas was coming.  Those happy days of the year, illuminated by the glare reflected on the snow, came quickly, and fled just as quickly without leaving the time for feelings to take the form of words and sweet and serene hugs.  He had worked a lot that year, everyone wanted a fir to decorate in their home, and he ran to pick them up and take them to their homes.  As always, his fir, the one for his family, was the last one he carried.

           The eve came and at dusk he arrived with the tree, it was big and beautiful, with its roots and its natural joy that shone in every needle.  But he was very tired, exhausted from a long month of work;  after placing it in the corner of his small room, he fell asleep in front of the fireplace.  The little boy, worried about him, decided not to wake him up and to wait there, near his tired dad, for Santa Claus to arrive, but he thought to himself "who knows ... he will bring gifts anyway, even if the Isn't the tree decorated? "  He only had a few drawings he made in those happy but lonely days, and he hung those up, then fell asleep on the loveseat.  Little flames languished in the fireplace, dancing merrily, and slowly tired too, they started towards the starry sky, inserting the chimney one by one as if it were a road to paradise.

      Outside, in the snow, the animals of the forest and I were a little worried about that child, we too were wondering: "who knows ... Santa Claus will come anyway even if the tree is not decorated?"  So we decided to do our best, secretly to adorn it, we gathered in the clearing of the oak, near the house of the squirrels, who had prepared a table with the hazelnuts of thoughts.  All night we discussed what to use to decorate the tree, who said the moss, who the strawberries, who the acorns, in short, there was a heated discussion.  It was almost dawn and like any crowded meeting, we hadn't decided anything yet.  It started to rain slowly, a fine drizzle of transparent droplets, and we figured out what to use.

      Each of us ran to the nearest blade of grass, and carefully picked up a drop, blew into it slowly until it became a ball, then entered it and stayed there for a moment, leaving the image and love of itself. he felt about his little friend.  Running the birds took the balls with their beaks and slipping into the fireplace, carried them to the tree.  The weather, changeable as always in winter nights, turned the rain into snow, the mice of the forest began to weave those silvery and soft flakes, which descended from the sky, in many long long festoons.  With those, we would complete our work pending the arrival of Santa Claus.  All in a row, the mouse husbands, then entered the cellar, silently reached the room, where the tree dominated and crowned it with those cheerful crowns skilfully made by their wives.

      There was only one thing left to do… now….  We loved that little boy and would have liked to give him something, but poor as we were, we couldn't compete with Santa's rich gifts.  We armed ourselves with humility, and set off silently in single file for the log cabin.  The sun was rising bright and cheerful in her new scarf, a gift from her friend moon.  We arrived while everyone was still asleep, seeing that Santa Claus had liked the tree, and filled the floor with gifts, we also placed ours:

The bear placed a hug as warm as his fur.

The fallow deer cast a tender look.

The squirrel smiled brightly

The wolf put down his strength to live another year.

The marmot laid a happy dream.

The mole cast a gentle look.

The hawk put down a guide feather to fly

And me ??? I placed a flame to keep in my heart to warm the cold and lonely days.

      Upon awakening, what was the surprise of the child, in seeing how many gifts he had received, he unwrapped them all, shouting for joy at each loose bow.  Then, happy, he ran out into the snow, came into the clearing, and hugged us one by one.  Allegro thought that the best Christmas gift was his dear friends.