Friday, 28 June 2013
07:14:27 AM (GMT)
Once there was a tree..
And she loved a little boy.
And everyday the boy would come.
And he would gather her leaves and make them into crowns and play king of the
He would climb up her trunk, swing, and eat apples.
And they would play hide and go-seek.
And when he was tired he would sleep in her shade.
And the boy loved the tree.
And the tree was happy.
As the boy grew he became too old for the tree.
He left it.
He forgot it.
He became meaningless, unimaginative, and needy.
The boy came back, pathetic and old.
The tree was only a stump, it had nothing left to give.
The boy was tired and much to old to play anymore, teeth far too brittle and soft to
eat the tree's apples and bones too sore to swing on it's branches. He just wanted to
sit and rest.
"Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." The tree said.
And the boy did.
And you know what?
The tree was happy
If you don't understand that this is about the beautiful story written by
Shel Silverstein, flee.
Last edited: 28 June 2013