The Last Tree in the Trench: The Christmas Truce of 1914

A moving Christmas story from a guy I’ve been following for some time. Enjoy.

Michael J. Rance

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Somewhere deep within the darkest reaches of the Black Forest, illuminated only by the fleeting shades of moonlight that creep their way onto the forest floor, resides a tiny cottage made of brick and stone. This multi-gabled abode, of fair age and a witness to the passage of time, sits alive and bubbly in dark shadows. Balls of light of a varying color line the gutters of the roofline, while a lightly streaming plume of smoke escapes from the brick chimney. On the east edge of the house sits a window, a window into a world isolated from the winds of change sweeping from the differing east and west. In this home sits a large fir decorated with dancing candles of warmth, adorned with ornaments passed down from generations. A fire burns in the hearth, where on the edge sits a young child dressed for the frigid weather, basking in…

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