The Angel Tree

There's a story behind every story. A story that only I would know. --AM

For fear of the ax, the tallest tree stood still. Pray it did, it prayed and prayed until a miracle did happen. Swung as mighty as the axeman could, he could not cut the tree down.

The tallest tree, envied by none, loved by few, and cheated by all, was never one easily put down. Quick to trust and easy to love, the tall tree had the best spot in the woods. It was the most magnificent in all the forestry. With branches stretching high up as if reaching the skies, it welcomed the birds that wanted to rest on its arms. It was a favorite tree, a title that took hundreds of years to earn, yet little did anyone know how much the tall tree worked hard to be the what it is now.

The tallest tree had seen the greatest tempest and heard every tale of love and lost underneath its canopy. The whispers of the wind, the uproar of nature, this all the tall tree had witnessed. An old ripe age it has reached, as old as the constellations in the galaxy. Wise, the tall tree was, it would simply smile and bid adieu to the lost travelers intruding its territory. It would neither help nor reject, it would simply acknowledge the passing of another lone soldier.

On the crossroads of the forest, a stranger marks his path. Axe in hand, cigar in the other, he looked all over to find the perfect tree, and in the middle of the woods, he had found what he sought. Calling another and some others more, they started their work slow and steady, creating havoc amidst the noise and pounding of their axes. For fear of the axe, the tallest tree stood still. Still as it stood, the pounding continued, the men would not simply give up, so the tallest tree prayed.

Then, a miracle did happen. The pounding stopped. Swung as mighty as the axeman could, he could not simply cut down the tree. Frustrated, he prayed. He prayed as hard as he could, then a miracle did happen.

It rained.

As it rained, the man saw the little creatures that came out from inside the tree and the birds that flew out of the tree's branches. The man now understood. More than how much he needed the tree, the creatures of the forest needed it more.

He could not cut down the tree, and so with his fellow loggers, they left the forestland.

For as long as the forest creatures needed the tree, the tree would live until its branches could no longer reach out to the skies and its body unable to withstand the tests of time.