The Tree

By Melanie Ezell

Sometimes life's most important lessons are learned in ways you wouldn't expect.

She snuggled down deeper between the great roots as she gazed up through the ancient, gnarled branches to the blue skies above, watching the shadows dance among the leaves.

It reminded her of her very first visit to this place, when she was only six years old. She had been smart for her age, and knew it too, but couldn't understand why her grandpa had taken her to see some old tree.

"Papaw, why are we here?"

He had laughed at her honesty, a great rolling sound that always made her feel happy. "Well, Darlin', I brought you out here 'cause this place is special. See, this is my favorite place in the whole world, and I wanted to share it with you." His large, calloused hands were always so gentle when they lifted her up and set her on his broad shoulders, still strong from hard work even after all those years. She squinted down at him, the sunlight glinting off his smooth skin but still not matching his shining smile, stretching up and crinkling the corners of his clear gray eyes.

"Why's this your favorite place, Papaw?"

He had gently reached up and taken her tiny hand, placing it against the old, pitted and discolored trunk of the tree.

"Do you feel that, Darlin'? See all the cracks and rough spots in the bark?"

"Yes."

"Those are this tree's scars." She had opened her eyes wide in awe as she examined the wood under her hand, this great oak that dominated the fields beyond the farm house.

"Is the tree hurt, Papaw?"

"Why, not at all!" He laughed again, rumbling beneath her. "It takes a lot to hurt a tree, and this one's tougher'n most. You see this," he pointed to a deep, ragged gouge across the tree near his knees, and she nodded. "That's where someone tried to cut the tree down a long time ago. These," a series of large, charred-looking spots missing from the other side, "are from a forest fire, back when this all used to be woods, before the house was built. And these," he brought her close to see the myriad holes and pits in the surface of the bark, "are from all the bugs and diseases the tree has fought off. And even after all of this and more, the old tree still stands just as strong as anything." He gave her a moment to absorb this.

"Wow."

"Yessiree, this tree... is my hero."

From that day on the tree had been their special place, where the two of them would go and no one else could bother them. And whenever they were there, her grandpa would tell her more stories about the tree.

"Do you know how old this tree is, Darlin'?" He'd asked her once when she was about nine.

"Is it as old as you, Papaw?" She'd replied jokingly.

"Haha, it's much older than I am, Darlin'. This tree's older than MY Papaw."

"Really?"

"Really. In fact, look here. Can you read this?"

"Hey, that's you and Meemaw!"

"It sure is! I proposed to her on this very spot, you know, a long time ago. We left our names here as a reminder."

She looked at him ib shock and confusion. "You hurt the tree? But I thought you loved this tree, why would you give it more scars?"

His face had scrunched in thought for a moment before his smile returned. "Not all scars are all bad, Darlin'. In fact, some things mean all that much more if they hurt a bit to get." She had pondered this a moment, but couldn't get it. "Some day you'll understand."

"Papaw, what was Meemaw like before she died?"

No matter how bad she might have felt, he always knew just what to say to make her feel better, and the tree would always be there when she stopped crying. He'd stand there, puffing away on his old worn pipe, and tell her story after story until all her worries were gone.

"Papaw, why are all the other kids so mean to me?" She was only eleven at the time, but the broken arm was just the latest in a long line of injuries from the bullies at school. He just wrapped her in a big bear hug as she cried.

"Don't you worry 'bout them, Darlin'. You're special, and some people don't like special."

"But *sniff* why?"

"Well," he thought for a moment. "It's like our tree." He gently reached back and patted the trunk. "This tree is extra special, just like you. But some people just don't see what a great thing being special is; they just see something different, and it scares them."

"I scare people? But why?"

He pulled her into his lap. "Because they don't understand, and when people don't understand something, they try to hurt it."

"Please don't let them hurt me, Papaw."

"I won't, Darlin', not again. Not in a million years."

He'd kept his word as best he could, and she couldn't imagine how much more difficult things would have been without his love and support. Even after all these years, he was still the person she looked up to most, and the tree was still her special place.

She left the tree with one last scar, a simple engraving in memory of their times there, and the wonderful old man she wished was still with her. But even if he couldn't be by her side when she became complete the next day, she knew his spirit would always be with her.

Because the tree still stood.

==
The End
==

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it! The idea came to me at work the other day, so I just had to write it. I don't think it came out quite as well as I hoped it would, but it ALMOST catches the emotion I wanted.