Face of the Tree

A story of hope and love.

The Face of the Tree

           I am with a crowd of people, when my attention is drawn to a woman holding a teddy bear. She is a dignified woman, but she has seen death, and her comfort is in her teddy bear, which she fondly holds to her shoulder.

I watch her cuddle her teddy, and momentarily I ask.

         “Why a grown woman with a teddy? Is she loony? Weird?”

          Her face is practical, and her senses are intact, determining that her mind hasn't faltered. She merely recognizes a death, and the teddy comforts her. Her tenderness and comfort in the teddy shows vulnerability against the face of dignity. With this image in my mind, she vanishes from my sight.

           I walk home and lie on my bed, wondering why I was left to see her. As I fall asleep, I wonder if I'll see her again.

I wake up hours later, crawling from my bed. My daughter is still asleep in her bed, and the house maid makes my bed. The weather is sunny, so I go outside for a walk. As I walk down the road, into the forest, I'm in a good mood.

          My surroundings are barely noticed, until I glance off to my side. Something grabs my attention, so I stop to look again. For a moment, my eyes fixate on the tree at the side of the road. The bark of the tree is carved into a perfect heart, and nobs and dents inside the heart make the face of the tree. It's an old tree, ancient and huge, full of vital leaves and wisdom. For a moment, it appears as if the tree has a soul which is full of love. That it's very much alive and well.

         The forest becomes beautiful, and all the multi-trunk trees stand large and green. Sunlight flickers upon the bark of each tree's heart shaped face. Charming and magical, the trees twinkle for me.

         I run back home to wake up my daughter.

        “Come with me. I must show you what I have seen.”

        I eagerly grasp her hand and lead her down the road to the forest.

       “Look, you must see the mystery of the trees,” I tell her. “You can see their faces, laughter and smiles.”

        My young daughter doesn't answer, but she goes straight to the old-fashioned typewriter by the side of the dusty, dirt road. She lifts a blue metal tab on the top right-hand corner and begins to read.

        “My fortune is here, Mother. Oh, look! It says that money is coming, good things will happen, and all is well.” Her eyes light up.

       “I love this. It's our happy day!”

       I remember, that our fortunes have always cheered us up. Those have been our happy moments.

      Suddenly, the woman with the teddy appears again. I'm drawn to the face of the teddy, which she holds up to her shoulder. For a moment, the teddy's face changes to a baby's face. I glance at my daughter and back to the baby. Yes, the baby is still there, and she smiles.

Written with love

by

Regina

Author's Note

Does this tale give you feelings of hope or love? What feelings does it invoke?

Reviews

[Regina]

I like your poem on acceptance. We all have that need and the struggle is real...

[Brent]

This tale makes me feel hopeful. The fact that the daughter went directly to the typewriter--which had the good fortune--shows that we all subconsciously know we'll be successful. We just have to hold on to our childhood idea of the world as our oyster.

I also see love through your imagery of the woman loving her teddy bear representing the woman loving her baby. I would say to revise the line "Come with me. I must show you what I have seen" since I haven't seen a mom talk to her daughter like that.

Your poem makes me feel hopeful.