A Tree and a Boy Anonymous

From Ohio to Kentucky to Massachusetts, some may call me crazy for having three different trees as my best friends, but I assure you that I am perfectly sane. For my first birthday, my grandparents flew to Ohio and gave me my first birthday present, a tree. The maple tree was planted in our backyard, and I always tried to crawl towards it. Crawling soon became walking, and walking became running.

After running, I only wanted to climb. I tried to climb the tree every day. The result was always the same: failure. I was only able to reach the top with the help of my parents. From the peak of the tree, I created many imaginary adventures. On Mondays, I fought mighty dragons that breathed fire. I explored deep caverns filled with sparkling treasure on Wednesdays, and on Fridays, I was a cowboy in the Wild West running from two sheriffs, my mom, and dad. My tree was also a place of peace. My mom read picture books to me under its shade. I loved Eric Carle’s books, especially “The Very Hungry Caterpillar.” When my family left my tree in West Chester, Ohio for Bowling Green, Kentucky, I was filled with the mixed emotions of excitement for a new town and sadness of leaving the only place I knew as home. Entering the new house, my...