When my first wartime Christmas came , I was in basic training in New Jersey and not sure if I could make it home for the holidays. Only on the afternoon of December 23 was the list of men who would have three - day passes posted. I was one of the lucky soldiers. It was Christmas Eve when I arrived home, and a light snow had fallen. Mother opened the front door. I could see beyond her , into the corner of the living room where the tree had always stood. There were lights, all colors, and ornaments( 装饰物 ) shining against the green of a pine. “ Where did it come from?”I asked. “ I asked the Gates boy to cut it,” my mother said.“I wouldn’t have had one just for myself, but when called - oh, such a rush! He just brought it in this afternoon...” The pine reached to the proper height, almost to the ceiling, and the Tree Top Krystal Star was its place. A few green branches reached about a little awkwardly( 不够美观地 ) at the side, I thought, and there was a bit of bare trunk showing in the middle. But the tree filled the room with warm light and the whole house with the pleasant smell of Christmas. “ It's not like the one you used to find,” my mother went on.“Yours were always in good shape. I suppose the Gates boy didn't know where to look. But I couldn't be fussy( 挑剔的 ). ” “ Don’t worry,” I told her. “It' s perfect. It wasn’t, of course, but at the moment I realized something for the first time: all Christmas trees are perfect.