The Willow Tree

This a touching story of tragedy overcome and the finding of love in the most unusual place.

                I was twelve years old when I first met my willow tree.  We met with tears in our eyes and sobs caught in our throats.  I had just learned about death.  Willow had known for some time now.  She wasn’t afraid like I was.  She helped me wipe my tears away and spun me tales of her adventures and all the wonderful years of her life.

        One day, as I sat by my dear willow tree, willow asked me why I only noticed the sad, terrible things in life.  I thought about it then mumbled slowly that it was all I could see.  I listened without a sound as she sighed.

        Then you’re blind, she confessed ever so quietly to me.  Then she whispered she was dying.  I had known this unconsciously for months and I couldn’t find a word to say.  

        Do you see that pretty bird up there?  She asked me in a sing-song voice, I nodded.  I thought it to be a blue jay.  Now what is it doing?  She ventured with a knowing smile.  I watched, amazed, as three little blue jays’ heads popped out the top of a nest.  

        She’s feeding her chicks, I chirped happily. Willow nodded at me in silent joy.  Yes, she agreed, and soon she will teach them important things like how to fly.

        What are the important things in life?  I asked her.  A glorious laugh erupted from her.  It’s different for each living thing; it depends on your needs.  Her smile began to fade as the breeze dropped suddenly.  My eyes flickered up to willow who swayed now slightly in the weakening draft.

        For you, it’s to open your eyes to the wonders of the world.  To live, to love, and to pass on what I’ve given you to someone else like yourself.  He voice fell and I found myself gripping on to her tightly.

        And for me…I need to learn to let go.  I felt tears now on my cheeks and closed my eyes.

        Don’t go, willow, please, don’t go, I begged.  She shook her great branches in a soundless response.  Her voice then came to me from a distance, and I pictured a tunnel, with willow a tiny dot of light at the end.  Farewell, dearest…  Her voice drifted away completely and my darling willow went limp.  I let out a little cry.

        When she was gone a great wind blew up and swirled around us, tossing and turning the broken leaves and dead twigs of what was left of willow.  Even though her physical form was withered away she was still there, close to my heart.  I thanked her and then said good-bye myself.

        And even now, with my own wandering sapling, I miss her very much.  What comforts me is that I know I’ll see her soon.  Shortly, I will also walk down the tunnel with willow and we will be together again forever.

 

Author's Note

Well, what do you think?