When I was little, my favorite book was "The Giving Tree." I loved reading how the tree was willing to give everything she had to the boy, even if it would take him away from her. Each time, the boy never said thank you and never really acknowledged the gift, but in spite of that, the tree was always happy. It reminded me that if I was going to be nice to people, I shouldn't expect anything in return. I should just be nice because I want to.
I even had my very own giving tree in my backyard. It was a huge pine tree that had tilted so far over that you could walk up the trunk. About 6 feet off the ground, a huge section grew out of the side to balance it out. Looking at it from far away, it looked like a giant Y. I used to climb up that tree all the time and sit alone in the branches. I loved having a special place all to myself.
At one point, my parents had to have the tree cut down because it was bending closer and closer to our shed. I still remember watching the chainsaws cut off big chunks of the trunk. It was unusually sad for me to watch that childhood refuge disappear.
2 comments:
This was my favorite book as a child, too, so I gave it to my nephew a few years ago. My dad was reading it to him, and all of a sudden, he turns to my mom and says, "This book is crap!" He thinks it's depressing. And now that I read it again, I think it's depressing, too.
Nathan! I went back to visit my old house in Texas once where we just had some of the best trees around and some seriously special memories attached to them... and i found out they had taken down some of the best ones. Broke down and cried.
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