Once Upon A Tree

Once Upon a Tree

I blow the dust off the cover and open it; the first photo in the album was of my feet up in the sky. I still remember the day it was taken, it seems like yesterday. It was the very first day I had put up my own swing, in our backyard, right next to our stripy fence my tree used to stand. That tree was the next photo. Grandly standing, it posed for that shot. My whole childhood had been under that tree, whether I had been building forts and tree houses, or just sitting back with a good book. In my head the tree was just another lonely child looking for someone to play with.

I feel tears starting to form in my eyes but I ignore them. It has been ages since I looked into this part of my memory, or seen the pages of this album. It was time to move on. I turn over the page and can't stop the tear that falls down my face; it was a picture of me and my mother. I felt like I could still hear her laugh ringing through my ears. Under my tree, my mother, who had on a red and green watermelon apron over her pyjamas, was holding up a plate of pancakes triumphantly in her hands, while, I in a light yellow summer dress, was gripping my fork in my hand and making a funny face at the camera.

The next few photos were when I started to have actual real friends; the first was with my friend Mia, a short chubby dark haired white girl. I wonder what she looks like now. I look back at the shiny reflective sheets of the photo album and the moment the photo was taken replays in front of my eyes. I had wanted to introduce my new friend to my oldest friend. When I first showed her the tree, she thought someone else was hiding behind, then I explained to her that the tree was my friend, she turned her face to me and I could see a confused look on her face, it slowly turned into a smile and then a kind laugh. Then she turned to the tree and held out her hand and shook one of its branches. "Nice to meet you best friend, I'm Mia."

I go through the next few pages of the album, eyeing the small faces and remembering who they belonged to. Not everyone accepted my friend like Mia and people would tease me about it, but I never let my tree down and never left it alone. Trees were gifts to humans, they gave them air to breathe and food to eat and digest, if people had to be grateful to anything, it would be for the trees. To me this tree was the place I'd go to play, to cry, to get some fresh air.

I flipped to the page I had been dreading to see; it was a photo of a tree stub. My tree had been cut down.

I stared at the stub that was once a tree, a great big tree that had lived through so many generations. How will my stories about this tree be as exciting if the tree wasn't there anymore? Someone may say that a single tree is not a big deal, but it is, because whoever cuts this one tree down has cut many before it and will cut many after.

I was sixteen at that time and couldn't believe that my tree had been cut down for furniture. I was furious. My family had been having a hard time and had needed all the money they could get, that I gradually understood, but I couldn't believe how the person that came and cut down my tree could live like that, this surely wasn't the first tree he had cut down and definitely not the last. I had to do something about it.

At school, I started a club: "Trees Are Life", and went on countless marches and demonstrations. I was always the loudest voice, the hardest worker, the last one to leave. All the people who had made fun of me saw how important my message was, knew how valuable the trees were and joined me and supported and helped.

A smile found its way to my face as I go through the photos one by one, proud of the person I used to be, sure there's still a bit of it in me. No small thing could please me; I would always have bigger dreams than reality, the sky was the limit, still is.

I get to the last few pages of my album where I start to get older, photos of my graduation, of my room in college and all those other things that happen when you grow up. The last photo was of me in a white sparkly wedding dress, with my white sparkly high heels standing in the middle of a muddy field of tiny baby trees. At my wedding every guest and person attending planted a tree, and now it is a small wood where families have picnics and children play. I am content of what I have done for the trees but it's nothing to what they have done for me or to all human beings since the beginning of time.

I gently close the album, my gaze resting on its leather cover, then I look up into the green eyes of my beautiful granddaughter, "And that my dear, is the story of my life and how I tried my best to save trees." She blinked at me before saying with a determined look on her face "I'm going to save the trees too, tell me granny what do I have to do?" I let out a soft laugh, "let's leave that till next time, why don't we darling?" She gives me a little nod and then gets up and brushes the dust off her little knees, then heads for the door, giving me one last smile before she leaves. Till next time it is.

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Hello. Thank you to whoever took the time to read my short story. Keep in mind that the 5-7 minutes you took reading this story took me hours to read and edit :) If you liked my story please let me know by commenting or clicking the little star to vote. Thanks again.💙
In a while butterfly! 🦄