A Tale of Three Trees

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Oak

It was pouring last night, and I had to bear the brunt of the storm. That’s the curse of being the tallest tree in the forest. They call me “the mighty oak tree”, but I’m anything but mighty. I was wet and cold and shivering and miserable throughout the night, while Willow, Bamboo, Sycamore, Pine, and the others were sheltered under my canopy. I even had a couple of my arms snap in the torrential rains, and now I look deformed and ugly.

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Bamboo

I could hear Oak screeching and cracking all night. He’s rigid in mind and body, but he’s the one who keeps us safe. When lightning strikes, he gets hit first. When Fire arrives, he gets burned the worst. I feel for him, but I don’t admire him like I admire Willow.

Unlike Oak, Willow sits serenely by the lake, contemplating Water. Willow sees beauty wherever she looks. She sways with Wind, dangles her arms, and gently brushes Earth’s soil. I can see her reflection in Water’s face, and she is always smiling. Never have I seen Willow complain about anything. She bends to make room for the other trees to grow, and she never gets burnt because she stays close to Water, the source of life, the source of peace.

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Willow

I can see Bamboo learning and growing with every day that passes. It seems like it was yesterday when he was only a seed and then a sprout, but now he is almost as tall as Oak. Even though he shot up in a relatively short amount of time, he hasn’t become old, brittle, and cynical like Oak. Instead, he’s been a good, humble student and learned the lessons I’ve taught him well. He draws on Water to nourish and sustain him, and he bends with Wind to avoid cracking.

Bamboo stays strong and supple by aiming high, and he shoots up toward Sun, the source of light. Throughout the seasons, he stands erect and strong… but never rigid…and hence he will remain everlastingly green.