There once lived a boy who found a tree in which was all his delight. Good thing, because the tree was especially fond of him as well. The tree was hidden in a grove that looked ordinary on the outside, but was hiding this unique treasure on the inside. Bold yet inviting, the tree received regular visitors, some who found it on their own and some who were told about it by the boy.

The boy didn’t mind sharing his secret about the tree, he had found it to be so enjoyable that he firstly couldn’t keep it to himself, and second, the tree seemed to have so much to give that he knew he wouldn’t receive any less with more people around. Each time at the tree was a little different, finding new patterns in the bark, crevices leading to the plummeting roots below. Looking up was always a joy, as the branches seemed to go far up and out of sight, and he would constantly wonder how many there were and, of course, if he would ever be able to climb them.

The boy was a natural climber, schooled by the tree itself, and the boy had spent enough time by the tree to learn some secrets to getting up. The boy wasn’t the tallest or most athletic in his class, but somehow when he came to the tree he was able to swing himself up just fine. Climbing was an added joy because when he first did so he realized that the tree was bearing fruit! Exuberant, he lunged toward what looked like an apple and nearly fell off entirely. He learned to be more and more careful in his joy to reach out for the fruit, and eventually (through practice) became so good at getting the fruit that his friends would ask him to get certain fruit for them to take home. That was his joy of course, because it meant more and more climbing. Until one day.

Until one day - a terrible storm visited the valley where he lived, and the wind shook the tree so violently that several of the branches were broken off entirely. This didn’t phase the tree in the least bit, but some of the branches that fell happened to be the very ones that the boy was so skilled at climbing. One of the lower branches, the one he always used to swing up toward the second branch that no one could reach any other way, was gone. There it lay, on the ground, still looking strong - but, slowly losing its color as it had its security to the tree. The boy knew from science class that the roots were no longer able to feed that branch with its’ life and that it could no longer bear fruit. Therefore, if he was going to get fruit from the tree, he would have to get it from a different branch.

That was the most troubling part of all, getting to those different branches meant finding new ways to climb. The boy was so used to running full speed into that tree, swinging up his favorite branch and landing just high enough to reach the fruit and climb even higher to other yet unexplored areas of sheer joy and fulfillment. The fruit he would usually bring down would indeed bring joy to others, but he wasn’t as concerned about that as he was about merely getting it for himself. What would he do?

He knew he had to set about learning how to climb the tree in a different way, new angles to reach new branches to reach, of course, new fruit. Everyone had to do this, he knew that. No one knew how to climb the tree right away and everyone had to learn new ways to climb it, especially as they grew. Even though the boy knew this, he was still very sad. Though he wanted to think, plan, and scheme new ways to climb the tree and dream about the fruit he would find there, his mind kept wandering back to the sadness he felt and not being able to swing up the tree like he was used to.

This process proved difficult indeed. Though the boy still enjoyed the tree very much, he felt more bruised and battered than ever trying to jump, claw, and swing - but mostly ended up on his back or knees. There was one particular branch he just knew he would be able to reach, but it seemed just beyond his height. He tried and tried, just almost getting success, but never being able to hang on for more than a few seconds or so. As a boy who again was not the tallest in his class, he wished he could simply grow an inch or two so that he could reach that branch and back up the tree to the fruit. Oh how he longed for the fruit again! And who knew? Perhaps the different route up would lead him to greater tasting fruit and different panoramas of the valley below?! He just had to get up that tree!

Alas, day after day the boy tried with little gain. The boy couldn’t contain his frustration even to his best friend, the girl. After telling her over and over again that he wished he could grow just a few inches taller so that he could reach that branch, she finally told him in her nonchalant, frustrating yet insightful way, she said "You know, you can enjoy the tree in other ways besides climbing it. Why don’t you just sit down against it and enjoy its shade?" Sit against the tree and enjoy its shade?! The boy was in no small way peeved at the statement. How could he enjoy the tree at its base when he had climbed and seen higher heights! Who wants to sit at the base when all that wonder is accessible just a few rungs up?

But it wasn’t anymore, and that was the problem. He just wasn’t tall enough yet! And the fruit, oh how tasty it was! Surely it would help him grow - oh how he loved that tree. In his half-angered half-grieved state, the boy ran to the tree as fast as he could, and, almost on purpose, threw himself down back against the tree.

He didn’t mean to slam it that hard, and it kind of stung his back. It was the expression of his frustration with himself and the tree, and the lack of fruit he had taste…PLOP!

The shaking of the tree has loosened the fruit, bouncing off the branches the boy would one day climb, and landed right on the boy’s head.

He sat back against the tree, a tear rolling down his cheek, and bit into the fruit.