A Mothers Gift
The leaves rustled and the shutters on the house had begun to rattle. The small boy who lay in his bed was no longer sound asleep, but he lay on his side with the blanket tucked around his face. Fear gripped him and he couldn't bring himself to walk through the dark to his mothers room which was only just down the hall. He wished so much that she would come and rescue him from his own fear that tears began to form at the corners of his eyes.
A branch from the Cinnamon Tree outside his window brushed itself against the wooden shutter and made the young boy sit upright and shout for her. In a matter of moments she opened his door carrying a storm lantern. She sat on his bed and scooped him up into her arms.
"Why do you scream Mako?" She asked. She noticed the boy was still shaking and she pressed his head against her bosom.
"The tree tried to come into my room and get me again Mama." The boy said, now calm but staring at the window.
The mother looked down at her son's head and gently kissed it. She realized that just telling her son that tree's are not beings like humans and cannot think would not ease his nights. Her son would still believe the tree evil and he would think his mother ignorant of it. She knew the best ways of solving such problems was through stories, a lesson she learned from her own mother. She thought deeply and finally a grand tale began to take shape.
"The tree will not hurt you Mako, I know this to be true. I have a story to explain to you why, would you like to hear it Wéixiǎo zhànshì?" The mother implanted the curiosity into her tiny warriors head.
"How do you know, please tell me." The boy asked.
"Then I will start from the beginning. Long ago when all men had no houses and all the trees were but tiny saplings and more stars than darkness shown over head a deal was made." The mother began.
" All the men slept under the stars and had no way to get out of the rain. One day they came to a small forest, where all the trees were but knee high. Except for one, a large Cinnamon Tree stood at the center of the forest. The men found that when it hailed and rained they could shelter themselves under her branches and leaves.
One storm while many men were sheltered there a few decided that they could take this tree and build many homes for their families, but this was not the wish of everyone. Some thought that the tree should stay untouched in honor of all the things she had done for them already. The two sides strongly disagreed and soon a fight broke out. The usurpers stormed the tree with stone axes and other tools but a small group stood around the tree prepared to defend the one who had protected them for so long. The fight began and many were hurt badly and even killed.
Though when it was all over the tree stood and kept the injured and her protectors safe when the next storm started. The men who fought to keep the tree won and the sides reconciled to bury their fallen under her great branches where her roots would keep them company in the afterlife. Soon the thunderous storm stopped and flecks of sun decorated her crown. The men looked in awe at the beauty and those who turned on her realized what a mistake they almost made and how rash they had been, but it was not quiet for long.
The noise of the battle and the storm combined woke the tree's spirit from her slumber and she became curious as to why it had became so loud. A silvery voice came from her leaves as they ruslted in absence of the wind.
'Why have I been woken by such loud noise, and why is the ground beneath my branches disturbed?" She asked.
All who were beneath her moved back in shock, they did not know the tree had her own spirit. Hesitantly the leader of the men who protected her stepped forward and began to explain what had happened and why they buried their fallen under her crown. He explained that some had strayed and thought violent thoughts though they now were welcomed back into the fold. The tree listened closely and judged the man and the others silently. When his story was over her leaves stayed silent for a few moments, but finally she spoke again.
'What is your name truth teller, what should I call my protector?" She asked.
'We do not have titles great tree spirit. We only give names to the spirits we find, like you." The man said.
'I am afraid you cannot do me the further honor of giving me a name, as I already have one, much like the spirits you have probably already named but I am called Lin Jiao, and have always been called such, since the great beggining.' She imparted.
'I am honored to know your true name and to have been sheltered by your leaves and branches. We all are honored. ' The man bowed and all those behind him followed.
The spirit of the tree was so humbled by all those who protected her and those who now realized there short comings that she offered a gift to all the men and their families. She began to rustle her leaves once more.
'I thank you for protecting me and for doing so I wish to give to a gift, I wish to name you young one.' She offered.
'There would be no greater an honor, wise spirit Lin Jiao.' He bowed again.
The tree twisted her lowest branch down and out of her crown and touched the mans forehead. She saw all his deeds and actions, thoughts and emotions. A name came to her and it was chosen.
'I will call you Heng, for you protect that which is beautiful and kind. You are just and see the grace in all.' She said. But she was not done in her gifts, she felt much graciousness still was owed.
'But that is not all, I wish to give you all names so that you may continue to honor each other when you speak them.' She said.
One by one each and every person came forward and she touched them and gave them names. Each person was grateful and mingled among themselves speaking greatly of her and their new names. So even now she was grateful and honored. She felt one more gift needed to be given. She thought back to why she was woken and what the men wanted from her branches. A home she decided, much like the tree was her own home.
'You have all been wonderful guests and deserve another gift for the bravery of this man, Heng. You all sheltered under me to keep dry and warm and now that my roots and shade give company and peace to your fallen you need new homes and protection.' She said.
After she was done speaking the small forest of trees that surrounded them began to grow and sprout many more leaves until all the men and women could see was a thick forest standing all around, though the trees still stadning only half as tall as Lin Jiao.
'These trees I offer you, though take only what you need and leave some and they shall protect you.' She said and the deal was made."
The mother finished her story and looking down at her son she could see he still was wide awake and looking up at the window she saw the sky waking up as well. The boy rubbed his eyes as the she got up and opened the window to the sun and the tree.
'You see Mako, trees offer us protection and they will not hurt you. It may have even been trying to open your shutter last night to check on you.' She said.
The boy pondered the story and his mothers wisdom for a few moments before he got up and put on his shoes. He ran downstairs and out the back door to the edge of the woods where wild flowers were growing. His mother followed and waited on the porch watching her son. He picked a whole rainbow of wild flowers and returned to the porch. He came up the steps and grabbed his mothers hand and pulled her with him.
He lead her around to the front of the house until they stood underneath the Cinnamon Tree, and his window. He let go of his mothers hand and began to separate the bouquet into two bundles. He turned and gave his mother one that was filled with beautiful colors, though only half the size of his own.
His eyes fell upon the tree and he slowly found his way to its base and placed the bouquet of flowers. He stood back up, tall and proud and fell into the tree, hugging it with all his might. After he was finished he turned to his mother and gestured for her to do the same. She followed his instruction.
From then on the boy slept with his window open more often than not and offered the tree flowers whenever he felt sad or scared, and even when the boy had become a man and the mother had passed he buried her underneath the trees leaves, and among her roots. He then even came more often with two bouquets and laid them beneath the crown of the tree that used to check up on him from time to time, and now frequently checks up on his own children.
The end.