The Son's Tree

The Son’s Tree


It was a beautiful, clear day with a slight breeze. The man and the boy walked upon the meadow behind the old farmhouse. The somber gate of the man and the boy showed no reflection of the sun’s warmth. Upon reaching the lone tree in the middle of the meadow the man spoke, “Your Grandpa planted this tree for me the day I was born.”

“I miss grandpa,” said the boy with his face downfallen.

The man choked back a lump in his throat and replied softly, “me too.”

Though it was long ago, the man remembered his father showing him the tree. “I planted this the day you were born. Ya notice there ain’t no other trees around? It’s ‘cause your special; you’re my son.”The boy inspected the tree, noticing a large bump on the trunk, he asked, “what happened here?”

“The tree got knocked over in a storm a long time ago, but your grandpa fixed it. Because your grandpa took such good care of this tree, it was strong and healed just fine. It did leave that scar though. ”

The storm during the night had been horrible. After the arduous cleanup, the boy went to check on his tree only to see in horror the twisted angle at which the trunk was bent. “Don’t worry none.” his father had told him, as he straightened the tree and taped the wound. “This tree was planted in a good spot, and given everything it needed. “Cause of that it’s a strong tree and with the right care, it’ll weather anything the world throws at it.” The boy watched in silent admiration as his father’s immensely strong hands worked with such gentleness in repairing the damage the storm had caused.

The man ran his hands over the rough bark of the tree. He could feel the sound strength many years of growth had produced. It was as if he could actually feel the life inside it. As he did this his mind wandered through time. He remembered as a young man, having picnics with his then to be wife under the shade of this tree. As young newlyweds, he remembered a bout of careless youthful passion with his wife under this same tree. Was the son that stood before him conceived then? Yes, it was certainly possible. The man then remembered his last conversation with his dying father a week earlier. “Don’t go crying none for me.” The old man had told him. “I’ve had a full life and I got to see my son grow into a fine man with a family of his own. You’ll raise that boy of yours as well as I raised you; got no doubt about that. And when you feel the pride in him like I feel in you, you’ll know how it fills a life”

An idea then struck the man; he turned to the boy and said. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t we go find a tree and plant it here for you? I figure seven years late is better than never.”

The boy pondered the idea for a moment; when he looked up, his face brightened slightly as he replied, “You think Grandpa would like that?”

“Yes, I’m sure he would. Let’s go.”

The father placed his hand on the son’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze, as they walked back. A small smile began to play about his lips. It was a bittersweet smile, but a smile none the less. The boy, feeling the strong, yet gentle reassurance of the hand on his shoulder, stepped closer to his father. As they walked through the warmth of the sun, their steps began to lighten ever so slightly, as if a reflection of the beauty of the day.