A Partridge In A Pear Tree.

I awoke to the sound of the wind whirling outside of my window. As I gathered myself out of bed, I looked at the time and seen as the clock struck seven in the morning. I peeked out the window at the sight of the white covered ground, untouched from the snowstorm from the night before. It was only a few hours before I had to leave to visit my parents for Christmas Eve. I began to scurry my way into the bathroom to freshen up and head out. Each year, my parents would give my siblings and me one gift on Christmas Eve to enjoy before Santa came the following day. As we got older, they continued this tradition. I have to say it feels senseless now that we don’t believe in Santa Clause anymore that we still follow the tradition. I must abide by my family’s wishes, and it is always a plus to see my family before the craziness the holiday brings. Each year, we make lasagna for dinner on Christmas day since everyone is tired of turkey by then. However, it takes plenty of preparation the night before and all of us help out along the way. This is another Christmas Eve tradition my family shares with one another. Oh no! As I checked the time again it was already 8:45 a.m. and it was time for me to head out to my parents’ house.

“Honey! I am so happy to see you arrived safely through this abdominal snowstorm!”

           I have finally arrived at my destination. I can already hear my mother shouting from the front door in excitement. Since my four siblings and I have grown up, she holds onto our little family traditions. My mother’s kind heart is overfilled with joy whenever she sees us all at once. We exchanged small talk about how terribly slippery the roads were. As my mother welcomed me in; I was astonished by the twinkling white and gold decorations scattered all over the room. Her decorations always put the biggest smile onto my face – Christmas was her favorite holiday. I pranced my way onto the couch as my mother handed me a box to open. However, this box was not like her usual Christmas Eve gift. The box was wrapped in gold ribbon, and white wrapping paper, but there were strange air holes all through the box. I thought to myself, “What could she have possibly gotten me?” I brought the box closer to my ear to see if I heard any sort of living thing inside of it. Until I heard a sudden – Chirp, chirp, chirp. “What is this?! Please don’t tell me she bought me a bird!” My mother had been watching me gaze at the box for some time and finally, she yelled, “Well, open it!” in excitement. As I rip the wrapping paper open, it uncovers a medium-sized cage…with a bird inside it. I faked the excitement that my mother wanted me to share, but a bird. I don’t even know how to take care of a bird! I hope my facial expressions did not show my un-excitement toward my mother’s gift to me.

           My mother began to play Christmas music, but one song in particular for me to hear her sing, The twelve days of Christmas. As she sang each and every beautiful note, she emphasized the line, “and a partridge in a pear tree!” I wonder if the type of bird she got me was a partridge. Why else would she be singing this song to me?

“I bought you a grey partridge to remind you of all your childhood memories hearing me

sing this song to you when you were growing up!”

I did not know how to tell my mother that I had no clue how to take care of this chirping, thing. I know this meant a lot to her. She put much thought into the gifts she buys for us. I tried my hardest to be thankful for the gift she had gotten me. However, I was clueless about what I am going to do with this chicken-like bird when I get back home. I don’t want to ask her. I better start doing my research tonight after dinner. Once my other siblings arrived and began opening their gifts. I realized my mother also purchased them things based on the song as well. All of us received a different type of bird based on the lyrics of the song. French hen, turtle dove, a goose, and lastly, a partridge. I was trying to focus on my family and spending time with them. All my mind could think of was what I was going to do with this bird when I get home. Is it going to fly and walk around my house? Do I keep it inside or outside? Should I let it go? What am I ever going to possibly do with such an animal?

A few days have passed by, and I have finally arrived with an extra noisy animal following behind me. Chirp, chirp, chirping away as if its life depends on it. I have to admit I have grown a bit attached to it due to the reason my mother gifted these birds to us. Growing up, my mother would sing The Twelve Days of Christmas all throughout the house around this time of the year. It was her favorite holiday song, and she loved every beat and vocal inside of it. Looking at this bird reminds me of all of those precious moments that my mother shared with us – It reminds me of home. But what I was going to do with it, and how I was going to take care of it, I did not know. I chose a name for him after the line inside the song, “Pear” for short. I have been spending copious amounts of time tending to Pear and turns out he isn’t so bad after all.