If I were a Christmas tree,
Waiting to be sold.
I'd try to look dejected,
Worn out, tired and old.

I'd twist my trunk,
And droop my limbs,
And turn my color brown.
So folks who came to look at me,
Would shake their heads and frown.

For I'm not just a plain old tree,
Another cash-and-carry.
God made me for a little girl,
A special girl named Mary.

And when she comes to pick a tree,
She'll know I'm the one.
For I'm a very special tree,
I know what must be done.

I'll stand up straight, and turn real green,
And hold my branches high.
And when she looks around the lot,
I'm sure to catch her eye.

She'll take me home and fix me up,
With lights of green and red.
Kiss her Mom and Dad goodnight,
Then run off up to bed.

While she's asleep, her Mom and Dad,
Will sit in fireplace glow.
And wonder at the little tree,
And somehow they will know.

That I'm not just an ordinary tree,
For an ordinary child.
I was sent by God himself,
On Mary He had smiled.

But Christmas trees are special,
Just one day of the year.
But you're FOREVER special,
'Cause your Daddy loves you dear.

- Marv Hardin

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