Wishes of a tree

Have you ever imagined being a tree? A tall, strong, straight up, serious tree. Or, a small tree with lots of branches in someone’s backyard. A mountain tree, or a prairie tree, or even a palm tree.

I was talking to this tree once, and he was telling me stories from a far away time. He remembered every second of his hundreds of years. He told me he doesn’t get to have conversations too often and he was happy I stopped by. I touched its trunk and he shivered. “Nobody touched me in a long time.” “Last I remember, this little girl came and hugged me, buried her face in my leaves and asked me to hold her.” A leaf fell on my shoulder. I picked it up and said “Thank you”. I looked up and the branches were dancing, I stopped and listened: the tree was singing. The sweetest lullaby…

The tree told me about his youth and his wishes. When he was growing up, he wished to be a huge, tall tree in the middle of a forest, the tallest tree around. Then, he grew, the trees around him grew in a forest and he was the tallest. People would come and admire him, the other trees where envious and stopped talking to him. He grew lonely and sad. He wished to be a small tree in someone’s backyard. He wished he had friends and that kids would climb up on him and decorate him at Christmas. He wished and he grew older and sadder as time went by. That’s where he was when I stopped and hugged him. We talked for a long time and he told me his last wish…

I turned to leave and he burst into flames. I watched that big tree crumble up until there was nothing but ashes and amber.

The tree lived… The tree was happy… The wish was granted…