Even as a little girl, I wanted to grow flowers. My grandmother would patiently cut a leaf or two from one of her violets and send it home with me for instructions on how to grow a new plant from that leaf.

Every year, on the first weekend of December, we go to the school forest and choose a tree. It’s a party atmosphere, with hot chocolate, cookies, and a campfire. We meet up with friends we haven’t seen for months, and we chat while waiting for a wagon ride. Once out in the field, we wander from tree to tree, looking for just the right one.