Once upon a tree ...
... there was a branch, and on the branch were leaves; familiar shaped green leaves. But the branch was not happy, and the tree was not happy either. Every summer it watched the trees around it have small buds, which were followed before very long by white flowers. Then, a little while later, the flowers would wither, but the small green apples underneath them got bigger and bigger and redder and redder. Soon all kinds of people would come and pick the apples, taking them to make jam, or pies, or just to crunch into on the way home. The tree watched the other apple trees, and all the time wondered, "When will it be my turn? When will I get the buds and the flowers and the apples? When will people come and enjoy me?". The tree wondered for a long time - years, in fact - because every spring, its buds didn't come, and every summer, there were no white flowers on its branches, and every autumn noone came to pick apples from it. Still, every year, the tree wondered, "Perhaps, this year ...", but every year it was disappointed. The tree tried to be cheerful, but underneath it stayed very sad.
One day late in September, a boy and his mother were walking in the shade beneath the trees. This was a particularly sad time for the tree, as the other trees were covered in apples, but it had already begun to lose its leaves. The sad tree overheard their conversation as they picked rosy apples off the other trees. "This is my favourite place, you know," said the boy.
(The tree could understand that - the fame of the sweet apples had spread far and wide.)
"But it's not just because of the apples," he continued, "The apples are nice - sweet, juicy and crunchy - but my favourite part is watching the maples turn. Every single year, they have fantastic colours - the glorious reds, the fabulous yellows and the extravagant oranges - it fills me with such joy to see them. They are so beautiful; they make me so happy." The tree looked at its leaves - those familiar, fingered leaves - stretched its branches a little higher, and smiled. Be who you are - because there's nothing and no-one quite like you. Enjoy who you are - because you may be certain that other people do (even if they're not good at telling you) :-) Just a thought, K.
- Posted by flyingkiwi on 14/07/2006.
- flyingkiwi's site
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