I am currently taking a great writing workshop sponsored by Philadelphia Stories. We had an assignment and this is what came out of it. Because it is small and pretty cool, I thought I would share it with you. I never share my creative pieces on this blog, so enjoy this treat.

Trees, Please

How wonderful to be a tree? Every winter to slowly die only to be renewed once again in the spring time seems like such an appealing concept. For a whole season, a tree gets to be completely unaware of the world surrounding it. The cold doesn’t affect the tree. Howling winds and blistering snows breeze between the skeleton branches as the tree silently sleeps. Children throw misguided snowballs at its branches. Parents dig holes near the tree roots to bury dead pets. Bored children enjoy plucking the brittle bark off its trunk and the tree stands still feeling no pain. The world slowly continues to turn and the tree stands as a solid reminder of the cycle of life and death. The tree emulates hope to the lost souls looking for a symbol or a sign that the loved one who passed on will not pass from this earth completely.

It’s a cold February day. The sun is shining but the bitter winds still find their way into the holes of the little girl’s crocheted mittens. She doesn’t mind the cold too much. Her house is a small distance from the tree, so if she gets too cold, she can always run in to warm up again. Her mother would offer her hot coco, but because she wouldn’t be quite ready to come in yet, she would forego the hot cup this time.

But right now she isn’t bothered by the cold. She has a mission. She is searching for God. Ever since her father died last February, everyone has been giving her advice. Her father is in Heaven. Her father has joined God.  God is in everything and is everywhere.

 She has meshed everyone’s advice into one stream of thought. If God is in Heaven and her father has joined God in Heaven, and if God is everything and is everywhere, then all she has to do is find God and ask Him if she can talk to her father. She has some questions she would like to ask her dad.

She wants to know if dying hurt and who else he met in Heaven. Did her dad see his cousin again? Did he get to talk to his father again? Does her dad get to watch her like she’s on TV now that he is in Heaven? Did he get to read the book of her life now that he is there?

She walks over to the old tree. It has been here her whole life. Her dad used to push her on a make-shaft swing on this tree. Her hamster, Teddy, is buried under the tree. In the springtime, this tree served as second base when her sister, father, and she played softball in the backyard.

With her bare hand, she feels the rough bark. Some of it crumbles in her hand. She sees her opportunity. If she can just get all the bark off the tree, she will be finally standing next to God.

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