Once upon a time in a garden planted by the banks of a mighty river grew two young trees, side by side.
One tree was young and grew close to the ground. The other was much older and wider, growing straight and taller than the young tree. Everyone who passed by would remark on how grand the straight tree looked. Even the animals of the nearby forest preferred the taller tree; the birds making their nests high up in its branches. The young tree was crooked and bent over and no one noticed it. It grew under the shadow of the bigger tree that with its imposing girth blocked out the suns rays.
Whenever it rained, the tall tree drank first and plenty, while the younger tree patiently waited and nourished itself from its roots growing deep in the earth. With little sunlight, the young tree bore small fruit while the older tree produced impressively large amounts. Yet no one ever ate from the fruit produced by the tall tree because it tasted bitter. The smaller tree’s fruit while small refreshed any passer-by’s thirst since it retained all the rain water it could get.
The crooked tree was intimidated by the older tree since she (the older tree) would call down every morning to him (the young tree) and say things like: “You are so small. You are taking up valuable space. I wish you would move. Then I’d have more room to grow and spread out my strong thick roots.” Day after day, the older more imposing tree would pick on the smaller tree and wish it away. The young crooked tree hung with branches slung low and said nothing but only hoped someone would come along some day and uproot him. “Then”, he thought to himself, “I will be at peace and never have to hear the older tree taunting me and despising my crookedness”.
This went on for many years. The older tree growing stronger and taller while the younger tree remained crooked and low taking what sun and rain the bigger tree did not need.
Then one day out of the eastern sky a torrential wind and rain swept down on the garden. For three days the winds raged and howled and uprooted many other trees in the garden. The mighty river heaved and overflowed it banks and swept anything in its path. The leaves of the mighty tree fell off and its lower branches broke off. The animals who had hidden in her ran and flew away for better places of safety. As for the younger tree, since it stood under the older tree, it was spared the brunt of the storm and escaped the ordeal with minor damage. Many of the animals who had fled the bigger tree took refuge in the younger tree.
When the devastation had ended, the two trees had survived but the older tree had major damage.
It was shortly after the tempest, the gardener finally returned from having been away for many, many years. He walked through his garden and inspected the aftermath of the storm, giving orders to his helpers to take all the fallen branches and throw them into a pile and let the sun dry them out. “They will be good for firewood” he said as he walked on.
When he came to the two trees that stood side by side, he inspected their leaves and branches and found that the younger tree had been spared much of the storm’s fury. He gave the following orders: ” Take this tree and cut it down since it will better serve me for mending the fences destroyed in the storm”. And so it was that the mighty proud tree was cut down and never was heard of again.
As for the crooked tree, it never again heard the taunting of the older tree and went on to grow strong and beautiful. Many who came saw how it was ideal for providing shade from the scorching sun and took refuge under its low hanging leaves. Every one who came near and saw it exclaimed: “Here stands the Resting Tree!”
…and every one “in the third floor garden” lived happily ever after.
THE END.
Crooked Notes by Idilio Rivera is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.
Crooked Notes 