The Christmas Tree Man
by Donald Cooper
I often caution clients about the danger of ‘judging’ customers by how
they’re dressed, or by who they appear to be. Back in my days as an
‘almost famous’ retailer of ladies fashions and gifts, I learned this
powerful and moving lesson from ’The Christmas Tree Man’.
Our staff came to me one December day to express concern about an unshaven,
disheveled and generally unwashed gentleman who kept coming into our store.
As he shuffled through our ladies clothing and gift departments, he would
glance out the window every few minutes and then, sometimes, he would rush out
the door and disappear…empty-handed. This process was repeated several
times each day; sometimes resulting in a purchase and sometimes in yet another
mysterious disappearance.
When he did buy, he always paid cash from a huge roll of bills with an old,
knotted elastic band wound twice around it. But mostly he would look out the
window, then rush out the door and disappear.
This strange behavior was spooking our staff and when they started making some
unflattering assumptions about this unusual gentleman, I assured them that
there was probably a logical explanation and I promised to chat with him on
his next visit.
Sure enough, a few hours later, he reappeared. I approached him, explaining
that our staff was quite intrigued by his mysterious comings and goings.
“Oh”, he said, “I’m the Christmas tree man. That’s my Christmas tree
lot just down the road with the little house trailer. I grow the trees on my
farm up north, you know, and then I come down here for three weeks each year
to sell them to you city folks.”
“I work all alone so I have no time off to buy gifts and I don’t get back
home until well after midnight on Christmas Eve. So, whenever I have a few
minutes, I rush up here to shop. I really love your store. You have wonderful
things, and every day I choose a few gifts for the ladies on my list.”
“But you keep looking out the window.” I said. “Oh,” he replied,
“I’m just checking to see if anyone has pulled into my lot to buy a tree.
And if they have, I have to rush back before they leave, or I won’t get the
business. You can’t take those trees back to the forest and replant them,
you know. Once they’re cut, they’re cut.”
“By the way” he added, “I know I don’t look like your usual customer.
In fact, I probably look a bit scary to some folks and I guess I don’t smell
too good either. I don’t have much more than a bed and a stove in my little
trailer. No place to wash up. There’s not a lot of money in real Christmas
trees anymore, you know. It’s kind of sad, really. But your staff, they’re
so wonderful. They treat me with respect and I really appreciate that!”
The Christmas tree man spent almost $3,000 in our store over a three-week
period. He came and he went, he came and he went, day after day, always
looking out the window, sometimes rushing to serve a customer. And at the end,
on Christmas Eve, before he left for home, he stopped by one more time and
gave each of us a real Christmas tree! But the real gift that he gave us was
the reminder that we should treat everyone with dignity, understanding and
joy. That was his most beautiful and lasting gift.
