Long ago in the Yosemite Valley, a little Native Amercan boy sat under the great black oak tree, a tree much larger than the other black oak trees, as it stood tall in a vast green meadow.
One day the tree spoke to the little boy.
"I'm here to shade you from the sun," it said. "And in the winter, shelter you from the snow."
"I'm here to feed you my acorns so you'll never be hungry."
"I'm here to nourish your soul with my beauty."
"I'm here to cleanse the air you breathe so that it is always fresh."
"I'm here to sing to you as the winds whistle through my branches and flutter my leaves in song."
"And I'm here to make you feel secure from the thickness of my trunk and the depth of my roots. I'll always be here for you."
"Thank you," said the little boy, as he hugged the tree's trunk.
But then one day a fire swept through the meadow and set the tree ablaze.
The little boy cried as he saw the great tree burn, and could do nothing to stop it.
After the fire ended, the tree was charred black, and most of its branches were in ashes.
"Help me," whispered the dying tree to his tiny friend. In response, the little boy carried water to the tree day after day, and hugged it, but the tree could no longer speak.
Soon it died, and when it fell to the ground, the lilttle boy cried and cried.
Eventually the hot summer passed, replaced by a cold, snowy winter, and then springtime arrived wth a maze of wild flowers in all the colors of the rainbow.
As the little boy picked some flowers for his mother, he noticed that right next to the fallen tree trunk was a bright green seedling, a tree smaller than himself.
As the little boy gently rubbed its tiny leaves, he heard a soft high pitched voice say, "I promised you I would never leave you and in my rebirth, I'm here for you again."
"Of course I'm teeny - tiny now but if you will take care of me, I'll grow into a big powerful tree as I was, and I'll again take care of you and your whole tribe."
The little boy's heart filled with joy as he took care of his friend, knowing he could repay the great tree for all that it had done over the ages for his tribe.
And he realized something else: that greatness comes not from size but from the depth of caring in one's heart.
Dick
Dear Reader, this story is based upon a lone great black oak tree in Yosemite I used to sit under in a beautiful green meadow. The tree was so old, I knew it had many stories to share, and today it shared one of them with us.
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