The Tree

For Charlotte, and all who have worked or taught at The Learning TreeTime passes in on the cool autumn breezeThe wise, old tree contently chuckles, it has long since made its peace with timeLike clockwork, the children run up to pick the fruit and play in the shadeSuch joy the young faces bring the old tree, so filled with enthusiasm and wondermentThe tree nurtures the children’s imagination, it quenches their curiosityWeek after week, it cares for the children through the cold of winter and the renewal of springUntil, one day, a gust of warm summer wind comes and rushes the children awayThe wise, old tree pays this no matter and waits patiently for autumn to come again.It was not always easy for the wise, old treeWhen the first children came, the tree was young but happy to give them what little fruit and shade it hadThe tree cherished its moments with the children but eventually they left and the tree was heartbrokenYoung trees misunderstand time, so when the children left, the tree was resentfulIt spent the summer after the first children angry at time and saddened by the lossBut it also cherished the memories of the lessons the children learned and the friendships they madeWhen the autumn breeze arrived again, new children came with it, and the tree’s branches had grownLonger and more fruitful, it now had more fruit to pick and more shade for the children to play underAnd so it went year after year for the young, growing treeThe children came, picked fruit, played in the shade, but eventually left.They learned from the tree and created wonderful friendships, but each was missed by the tree after leavingSo each year, with that first gust of summer wind, the tree grew more resentful of timeUntil one autumn, one of the first children came back as an adult to bring her own son to the treeThe tree was overcome with excitement by the reconnection with an old friendAs the young boy ran to play with the other children under the tree, the adult whispered to it“Don’t resent time, time carries with it the memories that allow your branches to grow.”At first, the young, growing tree did not understandShe explained to it that all the memories cherished were shared with all the childrenThe children came and learned, played and picked fruit, left but cherished their memory of the treeFriendships lasted, lessons transformed lives, imaginations blossomed, each child impactedShe told it that when one of her friends was lost suddenly, memories of the tree gave her strengthThe shared memories made the trees branches grow but also branched the children to each otherBefore leaving, she whispered to it, “Some of us children have taken your fruit and planted our own trees”The wise, growing tree chuckled at this and waited contently for summer to come again.Written June 2010 in San Antonio, Texas