The Old Tree

High on a hill stood an old oak tree with branches stretching out to the length of its height. Winter was rapidly approaching and all the leaves had fallen, leaving the tree bare. This tree had see many winters and although the cold wind revealed this would be another harsh winter, the old oak tree stood ready and prepared. Not far from the tree stood a young oak sapling. It easily moved with the wind, but unlike the old oak, it retained most of its leaves. The young tree looked toward the old oak and asked. [Young Tree] Aren’t you cold with no leaves to cover you? The old oak smiled and said, [Old Tree] Soon, I will sleep, and when I awake, spring will be here. [Young Tree] I’m afraid to fall asleep. What if I don’t wake up? [Old Tree] You mustn’t be afraid. This is what all trees must do. You too will go to sleep and when the spring arrives, you will awaken. The young oak loved this old oak tree. He was one of many from the same line of oak trees that covered the hillside. The young tree knew the old tree was wise and could see that time had aged the old oak for many, many years. His thick trunk and deep roots had served him well with a long life. He wondered what the hillside would look like if this huge tree fell during a brutal winter storm. With each gust of cold air, his tiny branches shivered. Try as he could to hold them, his leaves began to slowly fall off. [Young Tree] Daddy, I’m cold! [Old Tree] Go to sleep my son. [Young Tree] What if I don’t wake up? [Old Tree] You’ll awaken to a beautiful, wonderful spring. Somehow, those simple words from the old tree gave the young tree comfort and assurance. He began to let go of each remaining leaf, as one by one, they fell to the earth around him. He began to feel sleepy and just as his eyes were about to close, he heard the old tree whisper: [Old Tree] I love you my child. [Young Tree] I love you too daddy. Short story written by MTJ

Note: This post is linked to Spiritual Sundays (hosted by Charlotte).