A Beautiful Tree for a Desperate Town

It was a cool fall morning and the leaves on trees glistened gold. The wind gently touched my hair, neatly braided behind my back, and tied with my best blue ribbon. My checkered dress swayed as I walked across the lime-green field towards my favorite place in the whole world: 
    A bold twisting tree with branches that reached for the sun. 
    I had always come here. It was my sacred thinking place. The shade of the old oak was everlastingly a comfort, as I would sit and watch the sun rise, reach it’s peak in the sky, then fall back beyond the horizon. I sat here through the day, listening to the sounds around me. 
    I had always known this tree was special. There were rumors and stories, that it was a gift from the Gods, or that it was the tree of life. I liked to make up stories about how it got there. The stories would always end with something funny happening, and that was how I spent my days. 
    One day, there was something one my mind, so I got up. I wouldn’t normally leave my tree unless I was hungry, or some other urgent reason. Although this time, I just had a few questions for someone who might be as old and as and knowledgeable as the tree itself: 
    My grandma, Grandy. 
    Grandy was oldest lady living in our quiet and peaceful town. She lived only a few blocks away from the field where the tree stood, so I was fine to walk there. Grandy loved visitors, and always had a fresh batch of cookies baked up. As I walked up to her house, wooden and covered in vines, I knew from the smell I was just in time for some chocolate chip cookies. 
    As I walked in the door I yelled, “Hi Grandy!”
    Grandy’s welcoming voice filled the house. “Hello darling! What brings you here today? Either way, come, I just finished making cookies.”
    I licked my lips hungrily and kicked off my shoes. I played hopscotch on the tiles of the floor leading to the kitchen, as I ever so often did. Grandy already had a warm cookie and a glass of milk waiting for me when I sat down at her table.
    “Thank you Grandy! I love your cookies.” I said through bites. “I really came to ask you about that tree in the field though. I wanted to ask you why it was so special?”
    Grandy smiled at my question. “Well dear, it began a long time ago. Back then, citizens of the town were always getting into arguments with each other. 
    One day, a man came with an idea. He claimed that he had a sapling. The man, his name was Edward, said that his sapling was cursed. When he planted it in the ground it would grow tall and watch over our little town. 
    If two people got into an argument, the tree’s twisting branches would learn of it and curse the two people engaged in the argument.” Grandy paused. 
    “How are the cookies? I used a new recipe.”
    I grinned. “They’ve never been yummier!”
    “Good.” Grandy nodded her approval. “Now, back to our story. People were afraid of being cursed, so no one got into fights anymore. That was how we became the peaceful town and compatible neighbors that we are.” 
    I thanked Grandy, and headed out the door.
    It was getting late, so I headed for home, not the tree. On the way I thought about what Grandy said. It was a beautiful way one tree had changed an entire town. If it weren’t for that tree, our town might’ve been in shambles, so we were lucky for it. I made it my life’s mission to preserve it. 

30 YEARS LATER

30 years later, and I haven’t forgot what Grandy told me. I tell it to my children, so that they can also understand the importance of that tree, and really just trees in general. Trees are the true rulers of this world, and we all have to work to save and preserve them. My town knows that truth better than anyone.
 

slothinator

VT

13 years old

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