A young boy walked off the sidewalk and into the tall grass. He stopped and examined this plump, knotted enemy before him. This enemy: a tree. This was a tree that he had dreamed he would climb and conquer. As he stared up at it, he remembered his first look as he rode by in his families’ car. The tree’s greatness awed him and he couldn’t pull away from its hold. Now as he looked, he could see its open mouth, dark and un-ventured. He thought he could hear its low, creaky voice bicker; “You think you can conquer me? Do you think you can beat me? You’re not very big, little boy. Come on and try!” He walked forward slowly and stopped at the bus tire size base of the tree. He looked up at its knotted, warped branches with green, yellow and red leaves which blocked his view to the top. He glanced down at his clothes. He wore an old pair of dirty jeans and a snug fitting sweatshirt. He nodded to himself that these were fit for this journey. The bottom branch was about five feet off the ground, allowing easier access to this first step he must take. After a deep breath, he swung his arms and leaped. The branch was strong but rough. His weight made the limb shake as it bustled the fall colored leaves. For some of the brightly colored leaves, the boys coming helped them let go of their hold and slowly drop to the ground, leaving a space for a new leaf come Spring. Once the boy had readjusted his grip, he threw his legs up and onto the branch, lifting his chest up and over at the same time. He felt the bark pushing against his skin through his clothes. He rested for just a moment, unconsciously slipping his tongue onto his lips as he straddled the branch like a broken horse. He took a deep breath and congratulated himself in overcoming the first obstacle. Although he knew there were many more to come. Holding on to two nearby branches an arm length away, he steadied himself as he rose to his feet. Balancing one foot in front of the other he looked up to see the many branches and leaves that he would pass that created the body of this tree. He tried to think of how many years it took this tree to grow as high as it stood. He scanned carefully for strong, think branches to use in his climb. All looked promising. “Don’t let that fool you, little boy.” He heard the tree snap. He started off with three little steps: Reach, pull, climb…..Reach, pull, climb…as he willed his way to his goal of the top. After a bit when his legs and arms were burning, he stopped to rest at a cluster of branches and caught his breath. He knew he was close, he knew was almost to the top. From this spot he could see the roofs of nearby houses, the cars that drove by looked like toys from this distance. He could see roads thinning out and disappearing where the hills rose to touch the sky. He did not want to look down for fear his courage would leave him at that instant. With the view of his world implanted in his memory forever, he took his next step. As he reached for his next plant, he saw bright blue sky through the top of the tree; he was almost there! His adrenaline took over as he found his goal within reach. But he missed his next hold. He fell off balance and grabbed at the closest branch, but it snapped from his grasp. He was too surprised to yell out as he lost his grip and fell. His forehead hit as he dropped to the branch he had stood on not 30 seconds before. His arms and fingers scraped at the tree as he searched for a hold, scarring his arms, breaking nails and jamming fingers. His breath whooshed out as he was slammed against another limb that had helped him come one step closer to fulfilling this journey. He thought he heard his ribs break, but it was only the tree straining under the sudden pressure. Finally he stopped. Using his wrists to balance, he sat up with his head lowered. He wiped the sweat and tears of both pain and frustration on his sweatshirt, leaving a smudge of dirt and specks of bark. With his legs stiff below him, he looked at his throbbing, bleeding fingers. Both middle fingernails were cracked and chipped, while the others skin were scraped and torn. Both forearms showed the marks of his fall, and probably would for a long time to come. After a few moments, the pain started to subside, leaving only a dull throbbing that soon diminished to a bearable sore. Though his head throbbed, he collected his thoughts and scolded himself for being so careless. He looked up. He fell just two branches down, but it seemed like a hundred. He took deep breaths to ease his body and closed his eyes. He thought he could hear the tree laughing at him. “I am not giving up.” He whispered, but his voice was strong. He stood, careful to avoid direct contact with his fingertips and using only his thumb and smaller fingers. He felt his body and mind regaining the strength and determination he thought he lost in those few seconds. With that glimpse of the top and his goal clear in his mind, he began once more. Now and again he would rub or catch his wounded fingers on a bad spot, making him bite his lip, but he continued on. He stopped to rest at two branches that formed an X, supporting his weight against the cross. The throbbing in his head and fingers had returned, and the scrapes on his arm were bleeding anew. With concern, he thought that he should head down before his situation got worse, but a cool breeze came to him from a hole between the leaves, blowing the flush from his face. He inhaled the fresh air, looking up as he did to take it all through his nose. There was the top and this time it was within reach. He felt that the tree had allowed the breeze to wash over him, though he was sitting deep with in its branches, telling him that he was almost there. With a smile, he completed the last remaining steps. He stood in a break of the tree. He was still among strong branches, with thinner ones above his head, but this was it. He was standing in a hole created by the tree where you could see over the hills and what was beyond. Near and far, the neighboring trees were swinging to the silent music of the wind. In his tree, he stood tall. This tree did not swing. It held him firm and safe; the tree was tall and strong. He had conquered it, and he knew he was accepted. |