(It's still 12/5 in California as I'm posting this, it still counts...)

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As Christmas came ever closer, putting out its peppermint tendrils and ornament buds as it grew into a flower, you were starting to feel the itch to decorate a tree, along with many of the rest of the St. Jude's residents. It would certainly liven up the place and make it feel less... prison-y.

One teensy-tiny-but-ever-so-crucial little detail: no trees allowed. Both for fire hazard and allergy reasons. So the chances of getting to decorate a big tree, real or artificial, were slim to none. Plus there was the issue of ornament hooks being sharp and tinsel and bead strings being strangulation hazards. So yeah, not going to happen.

However, you could have construction paper. And pens, pencils, markers, and the like. So when multiple residents asked to have a Christmas tree, that was the solution. Sheets of construction paper pre-cut into trees. (No scissors for all of you.) At least you all got to have your own, right? No quarreling over decorations when you were the only one deciding.

So there you sat, beside Campbell, sketching out ornaments on your green construction paper trees. Nevermind whether you were good or bad at drawing. This tree was all yours and no one could complain.

"So," Campbell commented, "this is... well, kinda lame, yeah? They cannae even trust us with a real tree? Seriously?"