by Shel Silverstein
A couple of nights ago for story time "J" picked this story to read.
I open the book and it says:
Sinterklaas--5 december 1981
To: Eva
The pages were full of the smells of my childhood home.
I finish and J says, "The poor tree. It has no more branches."
I nodded--too choked up, even though I thought I could read it this time without having a wave of emotions hit me.
The next day we went on a spontaneous family walk. (Love those!)
And J all of a sudden runs over to a tree stump.
He pats the stump. "Hello tree" He sits on it. He sings while he stands on it.
He runs his car over it.
And then he tells the tree we are going to keep walking...
AND THE TREE WAS HAPPY.
As was I.
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