The Life Tree

   A story about learning to accept yourself the way you are, to work hard for your own dreams and not to try and live another person's life.

  A little boy stood gazing up at his father’s life tree. It was a huge and handsome oak, with a sturdy trunk, a deep and well connected network of roots and enough branches to house many birds and squirrels. The little boy thought of his father as he stared at the tree. He thought about how his father was a confident and well respected man. He also thought about how his father had many friends and contacts, how he had achieved great things and how he was always looking out for others. The little boy wished he could have a tree like his father’s. His own tree that his father had given him recently was only a sapling and the boy was ashamed at how small and insignificant it looked next to his father’s. How impressed his father would be if he could get a tree like that for himself! 

     Making up his mind, he quickly dashed home to find a shovel. He also packed himself a lunch and took with him the largest sack he could find, for he was very serious about finding a handsome tree for himself. Marching through the forest behind his house, he inspected every large tree he came across. The first tree he found had a sturdy trunk, but its roots were not deep and well connected, and the boy knew well enough that those kinds of tree would fall down quickly if there ever was a storm. The second tree he found was even larger than the first, with a sturdy trunk and deep and extensive roots, but its branches were a bit too bare for the boy’s liking: He wanted a tree that had enough branches for the birds and squirrels to live in, just like his father’s. So onwards he went. 

     After quite a while, during which the boy had eaten his lunch, he came out at a clearing, where the sound of running water was not too far away. Turning his head towards the sound, his mouth fell open at the sight of a tree that looked perfect for him! It was a tall and beautiful beech tree with young and healthy branches filled with squirrels chasing each other from branch to branch, eating the beech nuts adorning the tree. The leaves of the tree were a luscious green and they were rustling in the wind. He went closer, heart beating with tentative excitement, and saw that the tree had a strong trunk and well-developed roots. With a shout of joy, he immediately ran to the tree and started to dig at the base of the tree. 

     Hours later, the sun was setting and the boy was starting to get hungry, although he would not admit it. He was still digging away, but his pace had slowed and his hands were covered in dirt and blisters. Pausing only to wipe big droplets of sweat away from his forehead, the boy had worked non-stop since he had seen the tree. Nevertheless, he had not made much progress in digging the tree out yet. Slightly discouraged yet equally desperate, the boy carried on digging until the colour had faded from the sky and the cold had settled over the ground. For a moment, the boy debated whether to leave the tree and go back home, but the thought of returning without a tree of his own was too harsh to face. As a result, he continued digging by the light of the moon, fueled by a desire to prove himself and make his father proud. 

     “Oh, my son!” exclaimed the boy’s father. “What on earth are you doing here? Do you not know how worried we are?” 

     The boy rolled over and sat up groggily. Rubbing sleep from his eyes, he peered at the form of his father in the darkness. Somehow he must have fallen asleep. The shovel was still firmly in his grip and he was now covered in dirt from head to toe. The hole he had dug next to where he lay was quite large now, for he had worked hard, but his body ached from the digging and the cold, and his stomach ached with hunger. All of his muscles seemed to be stiff and painful and his brain felt clouded and strained. The boy opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Looking into his father’s beautiful, concerned eyes, the boy felt tears start to leak out of his eyes and trickle silently down his face.

     “I…I just wanted to make you proud,” whispered the boy. “I wanted to get a tree of my own, just like yours. But it is too hard. I’ve been digging and digging, but I’m still nowhere near digging the tree up!”

     “Oh, my son!” breathed his father. Relief and love were clearly present in his voice. He sat down on the ground beside his son and gave him the kind of hug that fixes all problems. 

     “Don’t you know that I am proud of you already? That you have already achieved so much, and made so many friends, and helped so many people? Isn’t that why you already have a tree of your own?”

     “Yes, but it looks so small and weak compared to all the other trees in this forest!”

     “My son, have you forgotten how trees grow? How do big trees become big? Do they do so overnight? Doesn’t it take years of watering and caring for a tree to make it grow tall?”

     “Yes…” replied the boy hesitantly.

     “You cannot dig up someone else’s tree and try to take their life and success. It won’t work, because their tree is not your tree and it will not become the tree you truly desire. You need to water your own sapling consistently over many years, and then you too will have the large and beautiful tree you desire. Pride does not come from having a large tree, but from growing your own tree, little by little, day by day. Do you understand the difference?”

     “Not really…” the boy replied.

     “You are looking at all the amazing trees you see and thinking that only a large tree will make others and yourself proud of you. But that is an illusion. Pride comes from having put in the effort to grow your own large tree, not the tree itself. So the size of your tree doesn’t matter. I am proud of you for the young, healthy tree you have. You can be proud of yourself.”

     The boy thought for a while. He was tired and exhausted. Trying to dig up someone else’s tree was hard and unrewarding. His thoughts drifted to his own tree. It was a young hazelnut tree, with promising buds and strong and supple branches. If he were to water it everyday, it would be a manageable and rewarding task. For he realised that he was actually fond of his little tree, and watering it everyday would make him feel important and valuable. Yes, he thought, I will look after my own tree, and be proud of its every little growth, and one day, I will have a magnificent tree of my own that I will be proud of, not because it will be impressive, but because it will be my own. And with that, he fell back into a deep sleep, this time a peaceful and content sleep, and a smile hovered on his face as his father carried him home.