A Tree for Jason

By Jessi Hammond

My brother Jason is five years old. The doctor said this will probably be his last Christmas. He can see this tree from his window. Please help me decorate it for him.

Lauren sees the sign on her way home from work. She is the first to answer the call.

Others follow, and soon the tree is looking very festive.

But for some, the tree is more than a community project. For some, it will change their lives forever.

A heartwarming tale of the spirit of Christmas and the power of community.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kincaid Publishing
• Release date: Nov 29, 2014
• ISBN: 9781502286192

Book preview

About this book

My brother Jason is five years old. The doctor said this will probably be his last Christmas. He can see this tree from his window. Please help me decorate it for him.

Lauren sees the sign on her way home from work. She is the first to answer the call.

Others follow, and soon the tree is looking very festive.

But for some, the tree is more than a community project. For some, it will change their lives forever.

A heartwarming tale of the spirit of Christmas and the power of community.

A Tree for Jason

One

Lauren Johnson noticed the sign on the way home from work five days before Christmas.

She slowed to a stop and looked around, vaguely suspicious. Cranbourne Street was almost like a manmade canyon. High-rise apartment blocks flanked the four-lane road, except for Grant Sager Park, a small green space which had been left between three thirty-storey towers. It was filled with shady trees surrounding a kids’ adventure playground, now dusted thickly with the snow which had been falling steadily all day. The tree carrying the sign, a pine about nine feet tall, was at the corner of the park, close to the sidewalk; it was how she’d noticed the sign in the first place.

It was written on a square of cardboard – when Lauren flipped it over she saw it had been cut neatly from a Coco-Pops packet – and contained just four sentences.

My brother Jason is five years old.

The doctor said this will probably be his last Christmas.

He can see this tree from his window.

Please help me decorate it for him.

Could be a prank, she thought. Or maybe not. A lot of rubbish accumulated around the park – the street was a natural wind tunnel, and a lot of paper and plastic waste got caught in the trees. But this sign was different. The string which held it to the tree was tied tightly and deliberately, even though it was worn; it could have been rescued from something else. The letters were printed with black marker pen, and although they were childishly rounded they were written neatly and spelled correctly. And there was something young and innocent about the plea.

Frowning,