“Daddy,” said Keeley, “is it really true

That Christmas trees grow in the wood

Ours always came

Wrapped in cellophane

The way that a Christmas tree should.”

 

“Daddy,” said Keeley, is it really true

You can get a real Christmas tree

That grows in the ground

With more trees all around

Can you get one for Molly and me?”

“Daddy,” said Keeley, does it have a nice smell

With branches all spiky and green

Do we make sure and feed it

Whenever it needs it

Make sure that its pot is all clean.

 

So now in the corner of No. 3

Stands a beautiful Christmas sight

The way it should be

A real Christmas tree

Glitters and shines in the night.

 

Santa saw it at the North Pole

He smiled and laughed with joy

That wonderful gleam

Will fulfil every dream

Of each little girl and boy

 

“Daddy”, said Keeley as she lay in her bed

Snug and warm on Christmas night

“Santa will know now

Which way to go now

Our tree’s going to guide him right!”