Saturday afternoon, while the national news kept doing its best impression of a wet blanket and the sky hung low and heavy over La Conner, the La Conner Swinomish Library pulled off a small miracle: it hosted the Tiny Trees fundraiser, an event so whimsical and bright it practically puts twinkle lights in your bloodstream.
I attended for two reasons. First, because libraries are holy places where community dreams go to grow legs. And second — purely by cosmic coincidence — I happen to own a headband decorated with tiny trees. I mean, when the universe hands you on-theme accessories, you don’t ignore that. You lean in. You lean all the way in.
So I decided to arrive as the human equivalent of holiday cheer. Tiny trees in my hair. Green jewelry. A bright green sequined dress that could probably be seen from space. And the coup de grâce: red rhinestone-studded heels. Yes, those heels. Dorothy heels. The kind with enough sparkle to make you believe sidewalks might actually be paved with magic if you just click hard enough.
I’d only worn them once before, about a decade ago, for a Wizard of Oz-themed event. Back then, they took me to Kansas. This time, even when I chanted “there’s no place like Hawaii,” they still brought me right where I needed to be: among friends, generosity, and a room full of tiny trees doing big work.
Our La Conner Community News “Bird of the Week” themed tree was tucked into the lineup like a feathery little love letter—complete with ornaments signed by photographer Nancy K. Crowell, and tiny sacks of bird seed tied on like miniature good deeds you could hang on a branch. I have never seen a tabletop forest so charming. Ice cream trees! Toy trees! Traditional Christmas trees! Each one a little world, each one a reminder that delight and purpose are excellent companions.
A true standout was Kevin Paul’s tree, decorated with handmade Swinomish cedar ornaments representing the animals of the sky, land, and water. The kind of tree that doesn’t just sit there looking pretty—it tells you a story. It roots you. It says: we belong to each other.
I was lucky enough to sit at Leslie Smith’s table. Leslie, an early supporter of La Conner Community News, is one of those kind, smart women who has become like family to me in the most organic, community-made way. Around us: Linda Talman, GOAT newsie and connector extraordinaire (and my host for most of the year); Wende Sanderson, humble, sharp, thoughtful League of Women Voters member who helps us with fundraising; Kathy Shiner, a creative, action-oriented thinker and dedicated newsie herself; and new friends Nancy White, Tamara Thomas and Laura Minton Breckinridge. You know the feeling when a table is so good it makes you wish you could fold it up and take it home? That.
And then came the live auction—the big moment. I slipped to another table to say hello to Mayor Marna Hanneman and my dear Maureen Harlan. I was mid-hug, mid-laugh, mid-this is why I love this town, when a woman at a neighboring table tapped my shoulder.
What size are those shoes? she asked, nodding toward my sparkly ruby treads.
Seven and a half, I said, assuming she was just admiring them. (They’ve always been a smidge too big.)
Can I buy them? she asked.
Reader, I was startled. And delighted. And slightly confused in the way you are when magic shows up without knocking.
I loved those shoes. But they’d only been worn once, and frankly they’d only ever taken me to Kansas — even when I tried to redirect them to Hawaii. Still, the idea hit me all at once: why not?
Sure, I said. For a donation to the library.
Kathy Shiner — an angel in human form — offered to bring the car around, because in that moment I realized I was about to go sock-footed from the casino to the parking lot like a festive little pauper princess. I handed over the heels, and just like that, my shoes brought $200 more into the library fundraiser.
Photo editor Nancy Crowell texted me, “I hope nobody wants your dress!” (No one did.)
I leaned over and whispered the story to the auctioneer, who promptly announced this spontaneous, totally unsanctioned donation transaction to the whole room. Immediately Kevin Paul — legendary sense of humor — took off his shoe and offered it to the crowd for a donation.
And that’s when we learned my shoe-buyer, Alice Collingwood, is no rookie in the world of bold fundraiser moves. Years ago, she bought the painted wicker hat right off the auctioneer’s head.
You can’t script this stuff. You can only show up for it.
So yes: I arrived in Dorothy heels, but I left like Cinderella — unshodden, laughing and feeling like I’d just stepped out of a storybook written by the community itself. It was the perfect exclamation point on a delightful afternoon: joyful, a little ridiculous and deeply good.
While I walked out to the car in my socks, I was already thinking: what outfit goes with glass slippers? Because if there’s a Tiny Trees fundraiser next year — and there should absolutely be a Tiny Trees fundraiser next year — I plan to show up ready for whatever magic the room decides to make.
After all, there is no place like home.
Sometimes, home looks like a library, a room full of tiny trees or a pair of shoes that learned how to do some real good in the world.
Kari Mar is the editor and publisher of La Conner Community News.
