Father Christmas was walking through the forest. He was annoyed. His white Pomeranian, who would usually run behind him happily barking, felt this and crept foreward with his tail between his legs.

He did not really enjoy his occupation anymore. It was the same thing every year. There was no kick to this. Toys and sweets, that was nothing in the long run. The children were happy about their gifts, but they should have been jumping up and down with joy. Alas, this they did very rarely.

During the entire month of December, Father Christmas had debated what he could create that would make the true Christmas spirit return and bring real joy not only to the children, but their parents as well. It could not involve precious things as he was on a budget there.

So he trudged through the snowy forest until he reached a crossroad. It was here he was going to meet up with the Holy Child. With him he consulted the dividing up of the gifts. From a distance he could already see that the Holy Child was there as a bright light was shining.

The Holy Child was clothed in a long, white and furry coatdress and was beaming all over. Around him were stacks of hay, twigs of willows and oak tree branches which the hungry deer and hares were snatching up. Even the sows were thought of and were happily munching on pellmell, chestnuts and acorns.

Father Christmas took off his cloud grafter and offered the daily paper to the Holy Child. „Well, old chap, what’s up?“ asked the Holy Child. „It seems you are in a bad mood, huh?“ Thereupon he linked his arm under Father Christmas and walked with him. Behind them the little Pomerian was trudging, but he was not at all unhappy anymore and was happily wagging his tail in the air.

„True,“ said Father Christmas. „The whole thing does not give me any joy anymore. I don’t know if it is maybe because of my old age or something else. The whole bit with the gingerbread, the apples and nuts is not enough anymore. The children eat it all up and that is it, the party is over. One ought to create something new for both young and old, which has nothing to do with food and games but that puts them into singing, laughing and joyful mood.“

The Holy Child nodded and looked very thoughful. Then he said: „You are quite right, old chap, it has come to my attention as well. I have thought about it, but it is not that simple.“ „That is the problem,“ growled Father Christmas, „and I am too old and stupid for this.

I already have quite the headache from mulling over all of this and I still have no sensible plan. If it continues, the whole thing will end up being another celebration like any other where everybody just eats, drinks and is lazy.“ Both of them walked pensively through the white winter forest, Father Christmas with a grumpy face and the Holy Child with a contemplative one.

It was so quiet in the forest, not even a twig moved. Only when an owl would sit down on a branch, would a piece of snow fall down with a muffled sound. The two of them, the Pomerian following them, ended up at a clearing where big and small fir trees were standing. It simply was beautiful. The moon shone clearly and brightly, the stars were sparkling, the snow looked silvery and the fir trees stood there in all their black and white glory.

A five foot high fir tree, that was alone in the foreground, looked particularily striking. It had grown very evenly and had strips of snow on each branch. At the ends of the branches were little icicles, which twinkled brightly in the moonlight.

The Holy Child let go of Father Christmas and shoved him, pointing to the fir tree, saying: „Is that not beautiful?“
„Yes,“ said Father Christmas, „but what good is that?“
„Give me a few apples,“ said the Holy Child, „I have an idea.“

Father Christmas made a stupid face, trying to figure out how the Holy Child could be wanting to eat  frozen apples. He still had some good, old booze, but he did not want to offer the Holy Child any of it.

Taking off his belt, he placed a huge bag in the snow, digging around in it until he found some nice apples. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out a knife, sharpening it on a beech tree and gave it to the Holy Child.

„See, how smart you are,“ said the Holy Child. „Now divide some string into two  fingerlength pieces and make me a little peg.“ It seemed a bit strange to Father Christmas, but he didn’t say anything and did exactly as told. After he was finished, The Holy Child took the apple, put a peg through it, attached it to the string and hung it on a branch.

„There,“ said the Holy Child, „now the others must be decorated as well. You can help me, but be careful that no snow falls off!“
Father Christmas lent a helping hand, even though he was clueless as to why. But it finally became quite enjoyable for him and after the little fir tree was hung completely with cheeky red apples, he stepped back in amazement and said: „My, oh my, why how charming it looks! But what is the point?“

„Does everything need to have a point?“ laughed the Holy Child. „Watch out, this just keeps getting better. Now hand over some nuts!“
Father Christmas dug out some walnuts from his great big bag and gave them to the Holy Child.

He then stuck a peg in each nut, attached a string to it and rolled the nut on the golden upper surface of his wings so that the nut became golden as well. The next one he then rolled on the silver underside of his wings so that he now had a silver nut and then hung it between the apples.

„What do you say now, old chap?“ asked the Holy Child. „Is it not the sweetest thing?“
„Yes,“ said Father Christmas, „but I am not sure....“
„Come now!“ laughed the Holy Child. „Do you have any lights?“
„No lights, but some wax taper instead!“ said Father Christmas.
„That will do,“ said the Holy Child and took the wax taper, cutting it and rolling it around the middle part of the fir tree and the ends of the branches. After adjusting them, he asked: „You do have a lighter?“

„But of course,“ said Father Christmas, getting out a stone, some steel and a sponge case. He lit a fire with the stone, letting the fuses glow in the sponge case and sticking  a few sulphur clippings onto it. This he gave to the Holy Child, who took the sulphur clippings and lighted the uppermost light on the tree with it, continuing with the one to the right of it and the opposite one.

Walking around the tree, one light after the other one was lit in this fashion. There the little tree stood in the snow, showing off the red apples, the golden and silvery nuts which were glistening brightly and the yellow wax candles which were burning solemnly on the dark branches, partly covered by the snow.

The Holy Child was beaming from head to toe and clapping his hands with joy. Father Christmas was not looking grim anymore and the little Pomerian was jumping up and down, barking happily.

After a while, the Holy Child extinguished the remaining burning lights with the beating of his golden and silvery wings. He told Father Christmas to carefully saw down the little tree. They then took the colorful tree with them and marched down the hill. When they arrived in the town, everyone was already fast asleep.

They stopped in front of the smallest house. The Holy Child quietly opened the door, followed by Father Christmas with the little tree. In the parlor stood a three-legged stool with holes on top. This they put on the table, sticking the tree through it.

Father Christmas then put all kinds of wonderful things, like apples, cakes, nuts and toys under the tree. Both of them left the house afterwards as quietly as they had entered it. The next morning, the man of the house was completely astonished upon discovering the tree and all the goodies. He did not know what to say or think anymore!

But when he saw the glimmer on the doorpost, which had been brushed by the golden and silvery wings of the Holy Child, he knew the answer. He then put candles on the tree and wakened his wife and the children. They had never experienced such joy on Christmas before.

None of the children paid attention to all of the goodies under the tree. They were all entranced by the lighted tree. They clasped each others hands, dancing around the tree and singing all the Christmas songs they could think of. Even the smallest child chimed in, full throttle.

As day broke, the friends and relatives of the Bergmann’s came, sharing in the joy of the tree. They immediately all went into the forest in order to get a Christmas tree for their families as well. All the others who saw this, followed suit and got themselves a fir tree which they decorated their own way, though all of them had lights, apples and nuts hanging from them.

As evening fell, every house in town had a lighted Christmas tree and you could clearly hear the joy and laughter of the children and the singing of Christmas carols all over. Shortly therafter, all of Germany followed suit and then the tradition was passed onto the rest of the world.

And because the first Christmas tree was lit in the morning, some areas bestow the gifts for the children in the morning as well.