Kriss

Once upon a time, (now what tale would be complete without that!). Before there were scientist that gave us the reasons why. When we still listened to the trees talk, and wind whisper, and the river laugh, there was a forest beside a village. Within this forest there were many trees, some tall and majestic, who always were tilting their bows up high to show their father the sun how beautiful they were. There were trees with needles as sharp as your grandmother's good broom. They never let anyone get close enough to hear what they had to say. There were short trees with their limbs close to the forest floor so you could climb and sit within them and listen to their tales. But these soon would grow up tall and majestic and speak to only their father of how glorious they were.

One day, a short and lovely little tree named (**something playful and honest**), was feeling very alone. He lived by the river, **a funny name** who never knew when to stop talking and had this irritating giggle. At least today he did. Across the river rose a huge wall of granite, dark as night. So dark that a shadow was always cast on little **. All his brothers and sisters had grown up high and majestic. But here he was, so close to the river, his roots were always damp, but he was always fed. Father gave him enough sunlight that his leaves were always green, but he wanted to be there to tell his tales of children, and travelers, and the village to his father too!

After telling **river name* one more time that he did not want to try and see if he could tickle him with his branches for the fifth time, ** decided to try and listen this his mother. His mother, the earth that nourished him and the moon that let him see the sleeping river at night. Who listened to him, even if she did not always answer back. She told him that he was special! He would have many tales to tell more then just his father. That no matter what he mattered. So he smiled and made sure that his branches were always low enough, and that he always showed the children, travelers and whoever sat to talk, that he cared.

As the years wore on, ** became a place where you brought your lover to have a picnic. Where children who thought they would run away would come and sit and listen to ** and end up going home because of his wisdom and warmth. He learned about so many things, good and bad.

Once, a thief had come after robbing the Widow **old name**. Now this made the tree SO mad, to have to have this man under his bows, he made them as unreachable as possible, but he had not grown tall enough, so the name put his bag and his body on a limb and sat and bragged. Well the Widow was a wonderful woman who always had kind things to say, who had even cured a case of **tree disease** for him and would sit and talk to his mother too! This always made the tree curious, but it also made him love the women more, and to have this man who stole from a dear friend, hurt the tree. But he listened to the man, as this was his way, and he took his anger and turned it into a mirror of words to this man. He made such a mirror of words that the man cried and went and returned all the stolen items to Widow **.

The next day, the whole village seemed to come to visit him! With the Widow ** leading the way, with the thief at her side. The tree shook his leaves in surprise! The river gurgled and stopped laughing so loud so as to listen. His brothers and sisters even stopped talking and telling their tales to father in wonder and awe. Father seems to be closer even and Mother was warm at his roots, so warm that the dampness was not bad today at all. The tree opened all his leaves to show his beauty as the Widow turned and leaned her back against his bark and told the tale. Then the thief, with his head hung low and a tear falling down his cheek turned and thanked the tree for showing him how wrong he was to hurt people. The mayor declared that a day of celebration! To show their thanks to the wisdom of the trees and the kindness of the earth.

The tree was so touched, that he turned colors of red, and yellow and glorious and majestic he was! His brothers and sisters were not jealous, but proud. His father smiled softly and his mother laughed proudly. He was warmed not just by the sun, his father, but by the warmth that the village showed him. Gave him back all the years that he gave them it seemed, just in that one moment. A little part of him felt ashamed that he ever questioned his worth that one day so long ago. He bent and tickled the river and some of his leaves came off. But he was not surprised or shocked. He felt content. He had worked hard, and his mother said soon he would sleep for a bit, that he was the first, to show the others that as tall and majestic that they were, that we all had to take a break.

A little later that month, just before he fell into a deep restful sleep full of dreams and splendor, he saw his beautiful leaves on the ground. The children of the village were playing in them and giggling with the river. The Widow ** was collecting some, "to press and preserve the moment", as she put it. The tree just sighed and closed his eyes, knowing all would be well and that more tales would be told to him later. He let go to his mothers waiting arms, and slept. It was good to know how special everyone is.

The next year at this time, all the trees did the same. Having watched their brother sleep, and awaken so gloriously in a shout of bright green buds. They realized how wonderful it was to be part of the world again. Oh, they still talked to Father, for he gave them food in his shining beams of pride. But they listened to their mother finally and gave some of their proud majestic nature back to the land that also nourished them. Each year the village still listened to the wind whisper, and the river giggle, and the trees talk.

THE END

copyright 1999 Kriss Weekley

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