I t was two weeks

before Christmas. I was an airman at Mcguire Air Force Base in New Jersey. I was married with a seven-month-old son. We lived in an apartment we could barely afford, so I worked part time as a short-order cook to make the rent. I walked a mile every day to catch a ride to the base. We really couldn’t afford Christmas. But on this day we heard a knock on the door. When I answered, no one was there, but a Christmas tree was lying at our doorstep. I never found out who left it for us. We cut up and colored newspaper for decorations. I will never forget that kindness—it really embodied the spirit of Christmas. —Thornton Pitcher Allentown, Pennsylvania