My Tree

This is a story about Johnnie, a boy who loved trees. He loved the brown gnarled naked branches of trees in the winter cold. He loved the sweet candy smell of blossoms falling during a spring shower. He loved the feel of the rough bark against his cheek as he tried to reach around a trunk, which he often tried to do with a tree he didn't know. In fact, Johnnie loved everything about trees.

Johnnie loved all trees, but his favorite was a tall enormous oak tree which stood in his own backyard. Whenever he had time to himself, Johnnie would lie under this tree and watch and dream. He watched the birds and squirrels come and go and the ants crawl in and out. It seemed to Johnnie that trees were made for watching and dreaming and just being special.

One day in school, Johnnie's teacher asked him to draw her a picture of something special. Johnnie was very excited because he knew exactly what he wanted to draw. He took out his crayons and laid them on his desk and began to draw. By the time he had finished his picture he had used almost every crayon in the box.

When Johnnie's teacher came by his desk, she was very pleased with his picture. She told Johnnie how bright and colorful it was and what a happy design it made. Then she asked Johnnie if he would like to write a story under his picture.

Under his tree Johnnie wrote: Mi TrE

Johnnie's teacher seemed a little surprised. But she gave him a reassuring smile as she placed a clean sheet of drawing paper on his desk and picked up the green crayon. Gently, she placed Johnnie's fingers around the crayon and, in a sweeping motion, they drew a large umbrella shape on the paper. Johnnie didn't quite understand, but he smiled back. Next, the teacher picked up the brown crayon and, as before, guided Johnnie's hand down the paper to form a trunk.

Johnnie thought about what a nice smile she had.

Johnnie liked the tree he saw on the paper. He had seen one like it in a book. Oh, it didn't have the blue of a blue bird or the gray of a squirrel. The trunk wasn't rough, and it didn't seem to smell like anything he could remember; and of course, it wasn't cold as winter..........but Johnnie knew he had learned how to draw a tree..........and she had such a nice smile.