The Once Mighty Tree

There once was a tree that was tall and beautiful. It was the talk of the forest. Its branches were sturdy, its leaves full, its trunk straight. Kids came from all around to climb its height and swing from its branches. On hot days it gave them shade from the scorching sun, and when it rained it bore the heaviest drops without thought. One day a kid broke off a branch and used it to scratch his back. The tree trembled a little. The next day another kid sawed off four strong limbs. He needed to make a chair. The tree shook. The third day another kid came and stripped the tree bare, he needed to patch his leaking roof. The tree stood naked and alone. No one came around anymore. It had given pleasure when they needed it, it had given a seat in its lofty heights, it had been a shelter in the storms, and now it had nothing left to give. One day a stranger walked by. He looked up at this skeleton of a tree. He didn’t say anything just looked for a long time, then took out a piece of paper and sketched something. Then the stranger dug a moat around the trunk and filled it with water. He did this day after day. And he would lean against the trunk, now scarred and talk about how it was the most beautiful tree in forest. And the tree couldn’t help but wonder if he was blind. At first nothing happened. But as time passed small buds sprang forth. They flowered and bloomed. Leaves popped out the very trunk seemed to straighten itself as if the moon was within its grasp. The stranger looked at the tree, there were tears in his eyes as he pulled out a crumpled drawing from his pocket and held it up, it looked exactly like the tree looked now. But the tree now could see over the tops of the other trees. It saw a house with a small branch propping open a door. It saw a wooden chair sitting in the yard, neglected, with one leg broken clean off. It saw where the roof had been patched. The tree shivered and shook. Leaves cascaded from its newly formed branches raining down on the stranger, who looked up bewildered. But all the tree saw were four wooden legs, it saw a patched roof, it remembered. The branches started to sag, the bark peeled off like dead skin and in a loud sickening crash the tree started to fall. The man turned to brace the tree with all his strength. But he was not a whole man for one of his legs was made of wood, it splintered and cracked under the strain. And in the house not far away a man looked up in time to glimpse a mighty tree crumble to the ground.