I walked through the trees into a clearing. It took my eyes a second to adjust from the shadows to the light. I blinked, and there it was! The tree I'd seen from the sky, looking exactly as I hoped it would. It had the weight of majesty, the delicacy of grace.

"Hello there!"

I jumped a little. I'd been so mesmerized by the tree I hadn't even noticed the small figure in black standing at the far side of the clearing.

She walked over briskly and stuck out her hand.

"You must be the man from Rockefeller Center," she said.

It took me a few seconds to respond. She had a surprisingly strong grip.

"Yes," I said. "Jesse King. And you are . . ."

"I'm Sister Anthony," she said.

Then she turned toward the tree.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" she said.

"He sure is," I said.

"Well, young man," she said, "come and talk to me." She crossed over to the tree and sat down, with her habit spread around her like a tent that had collapsed.

There was something unnerving about this nun. She had the manner and the voice of a mature woman--she was well into her fifties--but the restless energy of a child. She moved faster than I did. Her face was small yet arresting, but it was her eyes that really caught me, so dark they were almost black, but very bright.

I sat down next to her feeling tongue-tied, like a kid. And while I may have seemed young to Sister Anthony, I was no kid.

Since I didn't say anything, she began for me.

"So you want Tree," she said.

"Tree?" I repeated blankly.

She laughed. "I'm sorry. It must sound strange to you, to hear an old thing like me talk that way. But I've know Tree since I was a little girl--and he was a sapling, for that matter. We grew up together."

I was feeling like Dorothy must have felt when she landed in Oz. Even weirder, I liked it there, but I still had a job to do. I put on my doing-business voice. "So, I imagine you'd be thrilled to see your tree become the most famous tree in the world."

Sister Anthony looked at me as though I was crazy.

"Why?" she asked.

I began to mumble something about making millions of children all over the world feel happy, but I already knew it was over. I didn't have my Christmas tree after all. It was May and in a minute it would be December and now, instead of cruising through the summer I'd be on the road looking for a tree that couldn't possibly be as good as this one.

She must have seen the misery on my face.

"Oh, I think it must be wonderful!" she said. "It's just not the thing for Tree. He has a lot of work to do here."

Then she told me how the nuns would come to the clearing for special services, and have picnics under her tree in the summer, because his branches provided such lovely shade. She told me how she had been teaching nature classes here in the clearing to children from town for so long that some of them had even brought their grandchildren to visit Tree.

All of this emerged in one long, cheery burst of words. Finally, she stopped and looked directly into my eyes.

"I haven't told you the entire truth," she said softly. "Sister Frances told me why you were coming and said it was up to me. But there are many trees for you to choose from. I have only one Tree."

My disappointment faded after I heard the intensity in her voice. There was a depth of feeling there that I could only guess at.