The Christmas Tree That Traveled at Night

In a pretty house with blue shutters, nestled in a quiet street, lived a family like any other. There were Dad, Mom, and little Léonie, six and a half years old, who loved Christmas more than anything in the world.

Every year, on the first day of December, the whole family would go looking for a fir tree. And every year, it was Léonie who chose it. She would close her eyes, breathe deeply, and the one that smelled most of the forest would become their Christmas tree.

That year, the fir tree was particularly beautiful. Tall and majestic, its branches opened like arms ready to welcome all the decorations in the world. Dad set it up in the middle of the living room, near the big window that looked out onto the sleeping garden. For an entire afternoon, the family lovingly decorated the tree. Mom hung golden garlands that shone like rivers of light. Dad hung small red, green, and silver baubles that tinkled softly when brushed. And Léonie, standing on a small stool, placed the sparkling star at the very top, the one that had belonged to her grandmother long ago.

When evening fell and the tree lights came on, the whole house seemed to breathe magic. The reflections danced on the walls, creating mysterious and wonderful shadows. But what no one knew — not Dad, not Mom, not even little Léonie — was that this tree kept an extraordinary secret.

Every night, when the house fell asleep and silence enveloped each room like a velvet blanket, something magical happened. Midnight struck on the old hallway clock, and then...

The Christmas tree woke up.

Its branches trembled gently, as if stretching after a long nap. Its light garlands began to shine brighter, with a warm and living glow. And very gently, on the tips of its roots, the tree began to move.

That night was the first of its adventures.

Guided by the light of its own decorations, the tree silently glided toward the garden door. It opened by itself, as if the house itself wished it a good journey. The cold December air caressed its needles, and the tree shivered with happiness.

Before it stretched a path it had never seen before — a trail made of snowflakes that sparkled under the moon.

The tree set off on this enchanted path, and soon arrived at the edge of an extraordinary forest. The trees here were not ordinary: their trunks were made of gingerbread, their leaves of spun sugar, and their branches bore fruit in the shape of multicolored candies.

But the most amazing thing was the animals.

A little red fox approached the tree, its eyes shining with curiosity.

— Good evening, traveler friend, it whispered in a voice soft as honey. We've been waiting for you.

The tree, amazed, couldn't speak. But it jingled its little bells to say hello. A family of white rabbits emerged from a burrow decorated with holly. An owl with silver feathers descended from its branch, twirling. Even a doe with antlers adorned with small lights approached timidly.

— Every Christmas, murmured the owl, a tree like you comes to visit us. You carry with you the light and love of families. It's a precious gift.

The animals danced around the tree, humming an ancient melody that the wind seemed to know by heart. Then they showed it the way to go, further on, toward a warm light that shone between the trees.

The tree continued on its way and soon discovered an incredible sight: a Christmas market like no other anywhere else. Small wooden chalets lined up along a square covered with fresh snow. Lanterns of all colors floated in the air with no one holding them. And everywhere, everywhere, toys came to life!

A little wooden soldier marched proudly, clicking his tiny boots. A porcelain doll twirled in a ball gown, her cheeks pink with happiness. An iron white train whistled joyfully as it circled the square on rails.

— Welcome, welcome! cried a teddy bear selling roasted chestnuts. Come warm up, tree friend!

The tree wandered between the stalls, admiring the wonders: snow globes that told stories when shaken, Advent calendars where each window hid a miniature world, paper angels singing Christmas carols in harmony.

A little dancer in a pink tutu approached the tree and hung a tiny golden bell on one of its branches.

— To remember us by, she said with a smile.

When the tree left the enchanted market, something wonderful happened. Its roots left the ground, and it gently rose into the air.

It was floating. Like a small luminous comet, the tree rose, rose, rose into the starry sky. Its garlands left behind a trail of golden light that illuminated the night. Below, the world slept peacefully under a blanket of snow. The tree could see the roofs of houses, church steeples, frozen rivers that shone like silver ribbons. It was magnificent.

The stars seemed to part to make room for it, and the moon smiled at it like an old friend.

— Continue on your way, she whispered. You're almost there

And suddenly, the tree glimpsed an intense light on the horizon. The closer it got, the more it smelled the scent of hot chocolate, cinnamon, and freshly baked cookies.

It was the North Pole.

Before it stretched a fairy-tale village. Gingerbread houses with whipped cream roofs, workshops filled with toys, sleds pulled by reindeer running in all directions. And there, in the large central square, a troupe of elves was waiting for it.

— It's here! It's here! they cried, jumping with joy.

An old elf with a white beard, wearing a green apron, approached the tree and bowed respectfully.

— Welcome, old friend. Every year, we watch for your arrival. You are the messenger of families, the one who carries their dreams and their love to us.

The elves surrounded the tree, adjusting its decorations, gently brushing its needles, telling it the latest news from the North Pole. Santa Claus was preparing his great journey, the reindeer were training in the sky, and the last toys were receiving their final touches.

The tree stayed there for a long time, bathed in the warmth and joy of this extraordinary place. But soon, the horizon began to turn pink. Dawn was approaching.

— It's time to go back, said the old elf softly. Your family will need you in the morning.

So, as silently as it had left, the tree made its way back. It flew over the snowy mountains, crossed the cotton clouds, and descended toward the little house with blue shutters. It slipped through the garden door, which closed without a sound. It took its place back in the middle of the living room, standing straight and well-behaved, as if nothing had happened.

When Léonie woke up that morning and ran down the stairs, she found her tree exactly where she had left it. But something caught her attention.

— Mom, Dad, look! she cried.

On one of the branches, where there hadn't been one the night before, hung a tiny golden bell. And on the carpet, right at the foot of the tree, a small snowflake had not yet melted. And when Léonie came closer to breathe in the scent of the needles, she smelled something new: a scent of frozen fir, mixed with a hint of hot chocolate and cinnamon.

She smiled and whispered in the tree's ear:

— I know you traveled tonight. But don't worry... your secret is safe.

The tree didn't move. But if Léonie had looked very carefully, she would have seen one of its garlands shine just a little bit brighter, like a knowing wink.

Since that day, every night in December, Léonie falls asleep knowing that magic exists. She knows that somewhere in the darkness, her Christmas tree goes on an adventure, carrying with it all her family's love to the ends of the enchanted world.

And perhaps, dear child listening to this story, your tree does the same thing. Perhaps it too travels at night, guided by its lights, to greet the forest animals, dance with the toys, and visit the elves at the North Pole.

So, the next time you find a stray snowflake on a branch or a little bell that has mysteriously appeared, smile and keep the secret.

For the magic of Christmas continues to travel...

...even when we don't see it.

The End

Come back tomorrow for another beautiful story to read

Good night, and have beautiful enchanted dreams.