“Herbie” ––– The Tiny Christmas Tree Searches For A Family

This story is pulled from the archives as a celebration for the season edition.

Groff Media 2024© Truth Endures IMDbPro

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©

3–4 minutes

In a quiet forest stood a skinny cedar tree, so different from all the others. The tall, majestic cedars around him stretched their lush branches high. In contrast, the little tree looked scrawny. It had sparse needles and a slightly crooked trunk.

People often came to the forest to select the perfect Christmas tree, always passing him by.

The other trees whispered and rustled in the wind, teasing him.

“Look at you, Herbie,”

They said, giving him the nickname that stuck.

“No one’s ever going to want you.”

Herbie tried to stand tall, but he knew they were right. Year after year, Herbie remained as the big, beautiful trees were chosen and taken away. The forest changed around him. He stayed in his lonely spot. He dreamed of what it would feel like to be wanted.

Then, one crisp winter morning, the tree cutters came again, their saws buzzing. Herbie didn’t expect to get noticed, but this time, something different happened. As they cleared their path, one of the workers stopped, scratched his head, and said,

“Well, let’s take this little one, too. Someone might like it.”

Herbie felt the sharp blade cut through his trunk. Before he could fully understand what was happening, he was bundled with the others and taken to the city.

A sea of magnificent Christmas trees surrounded Herbie at the tree lot. Their branches glistened with dew, and they stood tall and proud. Compared to them, Herbie felt even smaller, and his crooked trunk made him look even more awkward.

Shoppers strolled by, admiring the grand trees and taking them home individually. Herbie overheard a nearby pine whisper,

“Face it, Herbie, you’re not cut out for this. No one’s going to pick you.”

The lot grew emptier daily, and Herbie’s hope dwindled. By Christmas Eve, he was the only tree left, standing under the dim glow of a street lamp. The wind whistled through his sparse branches, and Herbie prepared for the inevitable—being tossed away, unloved.

But just as Herbie’s spirits hit their lowest, a tiny voice broke through the cold night air.

“Mama, look! That one’s perfect!”

Herbie lifted his branches slightly in surprise. A little boy with messy hair and bright, eager eyes was pointing at him.

“Are you sure, Tommy?”

His mother asked, crouching beside him,

“This tree is so small. And, well, it’s not exactly full.”

––––

“Exactly!”

Tommy said with a grin.

“It’s different, just like me. We’ll make it the best Christmas tree ever!”

Herbie’s heart soared as Tommy and his mother carefully carried him home. Tommy got to work in their cozy living room, stringing popcorn and cranberries across Herbie’s branches. His mother tucked shiny ornaments into every gap, and finally, they placed a glowing star on top.

Herbie couldn’t believe it. For the first time, he felt truly beautiful. He wasn’t just a funny-looking tree anymore—a Christmas tree.

On Christmas morning, Herbie watched with joy as Tommy tore through his presents, his laughter filling the room. The warmth of the fire danced on Herbie’s branches, and he realized he had never felt so happy.

When the holiday ended, Herbie feared getting thrown out like many trees before him. But instead, Tommy’s family carried him to their backyard.

Tommy said, patting his trunk as they planted him firmly in the soil.

“You’re part of our family now, Herbie,”

Year after year, as Herbie grew taller and fuller, Tommy would decorate him anew, even in the coldest winters.

Herbie learned that it wasn’t about how perfect he looked or how he compared to the other trees. The love and care he received—and gave—made him truly special.

And so, Herbie stood proudly, knowing he would always be part of something wonderful: a family.

The Evolution of Fun: From Classic TV to Modern Joys

GROFF MEDIA 2024© TRUTH ENDURES IMDBPRO

Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©

2–4 minutes

GOOD TIMES REMEMBERED

Crosby & Hope

For many, the good times meant youth spent without barriers. Kids rode bicycles freely around town or through the countryside. They explored wherever curiosity led. They just had to be home before dark or by 10 p.m. It was when running to a friend’s house, unannounced was safe. It felt just as natural for them to show up at yours. We all cherish that time of freedom and spontaneity.


Your version of the good times began when you got first place as a young adult. You also got hooked up to cable television. Gone were the days of only three channels. Now, there were forty or more. Channels like MTV, HBO, and SHOWTIME offered endless entertainment. Some kept their televisions locked on MTV 24/7, not wanting to miss the latest music video premiere. The phrase “I want my MTV” wasn’t just a slogan; it was a way of life.


Icons like Downtown Julie Brown, Max Headroom, Randy of the Redwoods, and JJ Jackson became daily companions. They guided audiences through interviews and music video countdowns. These shows entertained us and shaped our memories, creating connection and nostalgia.


Yet, while MTV rocked for many, others fondly recall Saturday mornings. They spent time with classic cartoon characters. They watched Bugs Bunny, Elmer Fudd, Daffy Duck, and Yosemite Sam. Or they enjoyed Speedy Gonzales, the Flintstones, or the Jetsons. These beloved characters live on today, often appearing in rebranded forms and often in commercials that spark nostalgia.


For earlier and later generations, laughter came from entertainers like Pinky Lee or Pee-wee Herman. In the 1950s, Pinky Lee brought his lively antics to television. He appeared first in a primetime variety show. Later, he starred in a children’s program sponsored by Tootsie Roll. His Emmy-nominated show paved the way for future quirky entertainers. Pee-wee Herman was one of them. His distinctive gray Glen plaid suit, red bow tie, and eccentric persona owed much to Lee’s energetic style.


Beyond television, the good times existed in life’s simple pleasures. One was the crackle of a baseball game on the radio during a warm summer evening. Another was the scent of fresh popcorn at a drive-in theater. The excitement of getting that first car was thrilling. Sheer will and a little duct tape held it together.


For some, the best times were spent playing Pac-Man and Donkey Kong in arcade halls. They also glided across the roller rink beneath spinning disco lights. Others made mixtapes from the radio. They hoped the DJ wouldn’t talk over the intro of a favorite song. Others remember cruising on a Saturday night, windows down, music blasting, with no destination—just the pure joy of freedom.
The good times were about more than the entertainment we consumed. They were about the people we shared them with. Families gathered around holiday meals. Friends packed into a car for a spur-of-the-moment road trip. Conversations under a star-filled sky became treasured late-night memories.


Each generation has its version of the good times. These moments shape us and leave lasting impressions. They bring smiles long after they’ve passed. No matter what era you look back on, one thing is sure. The good times do not last forever. But they always roll on in our hearts. They create a sense of continuity and belonging.

What is your favorite best-of-times recollection?

Gigglewood Midnight Squad: Adventures of an Unconventional Police Team

In the bustling city of Gigglewood, a place known for its vibrant nightlife and quirky inhabitants, the streets came alive at night, lit up not just by neon signs but also by the laughter and antics of its most beloved, albeit unconventional, police team: the Midnight Squad, comprised of six dazzlingly attractive officers, their presence was always a spectacle. They donned the sexiest, tight-fitting uniforms that accentuated their gym-sculpted bodies, causing heads to turn and hearts to flutter.

Officer Mia Valentine, the squad’s fearless leader, was known for her killer curves and unrelenting determination. A bisexual dynamo with a wicked sense of humor, Mia could easily switch from laying down the law to cracking up her team. Her second-in-command, Officer Alex Steel, was a trans man with the charm of a movie star and the strength of a superhero. Alex’s journey inspired the whole team, and his quick wit often saved them from the trickiest of situations. “Hey, Alex, ready to save the day again?” Mia would often tease, to which Alex would reply with a smirk, “Always, boss.”

Officers Jen and Lily were inseparable, both on and off duty. The two women, partners in every sense, had a knack for getting themselves into and out of ridiculous predicaments. Jen’s tech skills and Lily’s strategic mind made them a formidable duo, though their constant banter often left their colleagues in stitches.

Then there were Officers Mark and Kyle, whose bromance blossomed into a full-fledged romance. Their goofy camaraderie and over-the-top displays of affection often lightened the mood during tense moments. With his boyish charm and impressive physique, Mark was the team’s undercover expert, able to blend in with any crowd. Meanwhile, Kyle, a former gymnast, was their go-to for anything requiring agility and acrobatics, often using his skills to distract the bad guys during high-stakes operations.

One balmy night, the Midnight Squad faced their most absurd challenge yet. A call came in about a mysterious disturbance at the Gigglewood Zoo. “Looks like we’ve got a situation with the animals,” Mia said, raising an eyebrow. “Let’s roll, team!” The absurdity of the situation was not lost on the squad, and it only served to heighten their determination and sense of humor.

The squad arrived at the zoo to find it eerily quiet. As the officers cautiously approached the entrance, a peacock suddenly strutted by wearing a tiny police hat. “This is definitely not part of the zoo’s usual dress code,” Mia whispered, her hand on her holster. 

“I have a bad feeling about this,” 

Alex muttered, his eyes scanning the shadows.

Jen and Lily, always up for a challenge, split off to check the reptile house. They soon discovered that all the snakes had somehow gotten loose and were now tangled together in a giant, writhing ball. The sight was both terrifying and strangely mesmerizing, like a scene from a horror movie directed by a clown. 

“Why does it always have to be snakes?” 

Jen groaned. 

Lily just shook her head, pulling out a bag of marshmallows. 

“Let’s lure them back with something they can’t resist,” 

She said, handing Jen a stick. 

They proceeded to toast marshmallows and lure the snakes back into their enclosure with the sugary treats.

“You know, Jen, this is probably the weirdest thing we’ve ever done,”

Lily said, trying to stifle a laugh.

“And that’s saying something,”

Jen replied, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.

Meanwhile, Mark and Kyle headed to the primate exhibit, only to find that the monkeys had broken into the zookeeper’s bananas and energy drinks stash.

“Looks like they’re planning a wild night,”

Mark joked, as they watched the monkeys swing wildly from tree to tree, their fur standing on end from the caffeine rush.

 “Monkey rave,” 

Kyle exclaimed as they watched the primates swing wildly from tree to tree. 

“We need to tire them out,” 

Mark suggested, grabbing a nearby boom box. Moments later, the air filled with the sounds of the latest dance hits, and Mark and Kyle led the monkeys in an impromptu dance-off until the exhausted primates fell asleep in a heap.

Back at the central plaza, Mia and Alex stumbled upon the mastermind behind the chaos: a rogue parrot with a flair for mischief.

 “Polly wants a key to the city,”

 It screeched, perched atop the mayor’s statue. 

Mia rolled her eyes. 

“Not tonight, featherbrain,”

She said, brandishing a net.

The parrot led them on a merry chase through the zoo, but Alex, with his agility and speed, cornered it in the butterfly house.

“Nice try,” 

He said, gently capturing the bird. 

“But you’re coming with us.”

With the zoo back in order, the Midnight Squad regrouped.

 “Another night, another crisis averted,”

 Mia said, looking at her team with pride. 

“And another story for the ages,”

 Mark added, wrapping an arm around Kyle.

As they returned to the station, the team couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. They were a ragtag bunch, each with their quirks and charms, but together, they were unstoppable. The Midnight Squad wasn’t just a team; they were a family, united by their love for each other and their city, ready to face whatever craziness the night would bring next. The audience is invited to share in this sense of belonging and unity, making them feel a part of the Midnight Squad’s unique world.

New Haven: Rebuilding Humanity After the First Contact War

In 2147, the world was altered irrevocably by the catastrophic aftermath of the First Contact War, a conflict that erupted when humanity made its first contact with an alien civilization. This discovery, instead of being the peaceful meeting of cultures and ideas that many had hoped for, led to a devastating war that ravaged Earth, leaving it a shadow of its former self, with much of the planet in ruins.

Amidst the desolation, small pockets of survivors, resilient and determined, tried to rebuild their lives. One such place was the settlement of New Haven, a converted underground research facility that provided refuge to humans and non-humans alike. In the dimly lit corridors of New Haven, it was here that a group of survivors, their spirits unbroken, made their way to the main meeting hall.

Leading the group was Dr. Rithian Torvak, a Xelorian biologist from a race that had formed a crucial alliance with humanity against the common enemy. The Xelorians, known for their green, textured skin, and elongated ears, were a race of peaceful scholars who had never engaged in warfare before. Despite the prosthetic arm—a reminder of the war’s brutal cost—he was a source of strength and wisdom, a testament to the unity forged in the face of adversity.

Anaya Patel, a young woman who had become a beacon of hope for many, closely followed Dr. Torvak’s research. Anaya had emerged as a natural leader, her compassionate heart and unyielding spirit rallying the survivors, united in their struggle, through their darkest days. Her parents had perished defending their home, but she had sworn to honor their memory by protecting those who remained.

Beside him, clutching a tattered blue blanket, was Samuel Grant, a former engineer who had lost his family in the initial invasion. Samuel’s eyes appeared haunted, but he found solace in aiding Dr. Torvak with his research, hoping their efforts might lead to a brighter future. His knowledge of pre-war technology was invaluable in keeping New Haven operational.

As they walked through the corridor, the walls echoed with the murmurs of the other residents, each carrying their own stories of loss and survival. The group was heading to a crucial meeting to discuss the latest developments in their efforts to reclaim the surface and search for other survivors.

The corridor opened into a large room filled with makeshift tables and chairs. On one wall, a digital display showed the map of their known world, with red zones marking areas still too dangerous to explore. These zones, remnants of the war, were filled with mutated creatures and unstable terrain, posing a constant threat to anyone who dared to venture into them. The air was thick with a mix of hope and desperation, as the survivors were acutely aware of the dangers that lurked just beyond their reach.

Dr. Torvak stepped forward to address the gathered crowd.

“We have received a transmission from what we believe to be another survivor enclave. This communication could mean there are more of us out there than we thought.”

The room buzzed with whispers. Anaya, her voice steady but filled with emotion, raised her hand, silencing the crowd.

“If there are more survivors, we must find them and bring them here. Every life matters, and together, we can rebuild.”

Her words, a testament to the hope that still burned within them, resonated with the survivors, filling the room with a renewed sense of purpose and determination.

Samuel nodded in agreement.

“We have the technology to send a team, but it will be dangerous. We must prepare for anything.”

Dr. Torvak glanced around the room, his eyes filled with determination.

“We have faced darkness and survived. Now, it is time to reclaim our world, to rebuild what we have lost, and to forge a future where all races can live in peace.”

His words, a rallying cry for the survivors, echoed in the room, filling them with a renewed sense of determination and unity.

As the meeting concluded, the survivors of New Haven felt a renewed sense of purpose. They knew the road ahead was perilous, but they believed, with a flicker of hope in their hearts, they could overcome any obstacle together. In the shadows of their broken world, they found the strength to hope, fight, and dream of a brighter, more peaceful tomorrow.

Despite their broken world, hope remained to rebuild even in the presence of a mixed culture of individuals—all who were put together not out of choice but out of a twist of fate!

Riverton Police: A Night in the Life of Detectives Jake and Sam

The city of Riverton never slept, nor did Detectives Jake Harris and Sam O’Reilly. Partners for over a decade roamed the nocturnal streets with the kind of synergy only best friends could muster. Their squad car, an unremarkable blue-and-white cruiser, was a beacon of hope for some and a symbol of fear for others.

Jake, with his gruff exterior and piercing blue eyes, was the kind of cop who could read a crime scene like a book. Sam, a lean figure with a quick wit and a knack for defusing tense situations, complemented Jake perfectly. Together, they led the department in felony arrests, arriving at calls faster than anyone else and building relationships with the community that others could only dream of.

One brisk autumn night, their radio crackled to life with a call that made their hearts race: an armed robbery in progress at the 24-hour diner on 5th and Maple. Without a word, Jake hit the lights and sirens, and they sped through the dimly lit streets. They arrived in just under three minutes, a record even for them.

The diner was eerily quiet as they approached, save for the distant hum of neon lights. Inside, a masked man brandished a gun, demanding cash from the terrified cashier. Jake motioned for Sam to flank the back entrance while he took the front.

Jake entered slowly, his voice calm but authoritative. ––––

“Riverton PD, drop the weapon and come out with your hands up.”

The gunman whipped around, eyes wide with panic.

From the rear, Sam’s voice cut through the tension.

“No, you won’t. You don’t want to hurt anyone. Put the gun down, and we can talk.”

The gunman’s grip on the weapon faltered. In that split second, Jake lunged forward, disarming him with a swift, practiced motion. Sam was at his side instantly, cuffing the man and guiding him to the squad car.

As they processed the scene, the cashier, a young woman named Maria, approached them with tears in her eyes.

“Thank you. I don’t know what would’ve happened if you hadn’t come.”

Jake gave her a reassuring nod. “Just doing our job, ma’am.”

The rest of the night was a blur of paperwork and patrols. But their most memorable interaction came just before dawn. While cruising through a quieter part of town, they spotted a boy sitting alone on a bench, clutching a backpack to his chest. They pulled over, and Sam approached him gently.

“Hey there, buddy. Everything alright?”

The boy, who couldn’t have been more than ten, looked up with tear-streaked cheeks.

“I ran away from home. My parents are always fighting.”

Sam sat next to him, listening with the patience of a father and says –––

“I get it, kid. Sometimes, home can be tough. But running away won’t solve anything. Let’s get you back home and see if we can help sort things out.”

Jake contacted the boy’s parents while Sam spoke with him. The sun was peeking over the horizon when they returned the boy home. Now more worried than angry, the parents hugged their son tightly and thanked the officers.

As they drove back to the station, Jake glanced over at Sam, sighs then says –––

“Another night, another set of stories, huh?”

Sam chuckled. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

In Riverton, one could become a legend in the shadows, and for Jake and Sam, every night was another chance to protect and serve, forging connections and fighting crime in ways that others could only admire.

A Cure For Monday Blues

Not too long ago, in the quaint town of Willowbrook, there were three inseparable friends: Alex, Maya, and Jake. They worked at the same bustling marketing firm, where Mondays were universally dreaded. However, these three had a secret pact to evade the Monday blues.

On Monday morning, as the sun peeked through the curtains, Alex, the creative genius of the trio, concocted a plan over breakfast. “Guys, I’ve got it! Let’s go on a spontaneous road trip!” Alex exclaimed, a mischievous glint in their eyes.

Maya, the adventurous spirit, beamed with liberation. “Yes! Let’s break free from the chains of mundane Mondays and create unforgettable memories instead!”

“Guys, I’ve got it! Let’s go on a spontaneous road trip!”

Jake, the pragmatic one, hesitated momentarily before a smile spread across his face. “Alright, but let’s make it epic.”

With that, they hastily packed their bags, loaded the car, and set off on an impromptu adventure. They drove through winding country roads, the sun’s golden rays filtering through the lush green trees, belting out their favorite tunes, stopping only for roadside attractions and delectable diners.

As they reached the picturesque town of Willow Grove, they stumbled upon a quaint bed and breakfast nestled amidst rolling hills. The owner, an eccentric but kind-hearted elderly lady named Mrs. Maple, welcomed them with open arms. “You must be tired from your journey,” she said, her eyes twinkling with warmth. “Come in, I’ve prepared some fresh lemonade.”

“We’re on the run from Mondays,” Maya confessed with a wink, and Mrs. Maple chuckled knowingly. “Well then, you’ve come to the right place, my dears. Here, every day feels like a Sunday.”

Their days were filled with laughter, exploration, and newfound friendships. They hiked through lush forests, discovering hidden waterfalls and secret clearings. They picnicked by sparkling streams, the sound of the water providing a soothing backdrop to their conversations. And they shared stories under the starry night sky, the twinkling lights above mirroring the joy in their hearts.

Meanwhile, back at the office, their absence raised eyebrows, but their colleagues couldn’t help but envy their spontaneous escapade. As they stepped back into the familiar hustle and bustle, a mix of nostalgia and determination filled their hearts. They were ready to face the challenges of the week, armed with the memories of their adventure and the strength of their friendship.

As the sun dipped below the horizon on Friday evening, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink, Alex, Maya, and Jake reluctantly bid farewell to Willow Grove. With hearts full of memories and souls rejuvenated, they returned home just in time for the weekend.

And though Monday morning loomed on the horizon, they faced it with a newfound resilience, bolstered by the strength of their friendship. They knew that with friendship and adventure, they could conquer anything—even the dreaded Mondays.

Hank and The Little Red Fire Truck

By: Helena

Fire Station 12 stood proudly in the heart of the bustling city, a symbol of protection and service. Named in honor of the fusion of Fire Stations 1 and 2, it held a legacy of bravery and dedication within its walls. At its helm was Hank, the seasoned veteran who had witnessed the evolution of firefighting firsthand.

Hank’s connection to the station ran deep, rooted in the early days when he and the Little Red Fire Truck epitomized heroism. Together, they had faced the fiercest blazes and emerged victorious, earning the community’s admiration. But as time passed, the dynamics shifted, and modernization took hold.

The Little Red Fire Truck, once a beacon of hope, now stood relegated to parades and backup duty. Hank, too, found himself on the sidelines more often, overshadowed by the younger firefighters and their state-of-the-art equipment. Yet, his dedication to the station never wavered.

Fate intervened on a warm afternoon when grass fires raged, and the station buzzed with activity. A desperate call for help echoed through the halls, signaling a mother and child trapped in a burning home. Hank knew he had to act swiftly with the other firefighters tied up on distant calls.

Without hesitation, he usurped the Little Red Fire Truck, a solitary figure against the backdrop of chaos. Ignoring protocol, he raced through the streets, the vintage engine roaring with renewed purpose. Upon Hank’s arrival at the scene, flames licked at the sky, and a crowd gathered, helpless.

Undeterred, Hank sprang into action, orchestrating a daring rescue. With precision born of experience, he deployed the aging truck’s capabilities, tapping into its reservoir of courage and resilience. Hank ventured into the inferno as the flames danced menacingly, emerging triumphant with the mother and child in tow.

The neighborhood erupted in cheers, and the world took notice, captivated by the spectacle of one man and his faithful companion defying the odds. Unbeknownst to Hank, his courage had transcended local acclaim, sparking a global wave of admiration.

But amidst the accolades, Hank remained grounded, his focus unwavering. As he extinguished the last embers of the blaze, a familiar figure approached – the Fire Chief, a mix of pride and relief etched on his face.

In a candid moment, the Chief revealed the bureaucratic hurdles that had hindered the station’s effectiveness, expressing a wish for more like Hank and his beloved Little Red Fire Truck. Yet, Hank, ever humble, pondered the Chief’s words, grappling with the shifting landscape of firefighting.

In the quiet moments that followed, as Hank bid farewell to another day of service, he found solace in the familiar embrace of the Little Red Fire Truck. With a promise to uphold its legacy, he embarked on the journey home, the echoes of the day’s heroics lingering in his heart.

For Hank, retirement loomed on the horizon, a bittersweet inevitability. But as long as the Little Red Fire Truck stood by his side, he knew their legacy would endure, a testament to the timeless virtues of courage, camaraderie, and unwavering resolve.

We All Need Heroes

flip.it/j7a9pE

Looking for hope sometimes comes from a variety of hard-to-find places. When you are a member of the LGBTQI Community, a blind superhero, a nudge has always been as good as a wink.

One-Time
Monthly
Yearly

Make A One-Time Donation To Help Maintain The Efforts You Find On This Site And The Support Sites Utilized For Information Found At benandsteve.com 

Make a monthly donation

Make a yearly donation

Choose an amount

$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00
$5.00
$15.00
$100.00

Or enter a custom amount

$

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

Your contribution is appreciated.

DonateDonate monthlyDonate yearly

For Your Entertainment And More…