And we will never forget him...

Long ago, when nature and mankind were at peace, there grew a tree by a river. He was tall and mighty and filled with age-grown wisdom and love. He had seen so many people throughout his years and they had relied on him for all sorts of things, growing friendships from tiny seeds into bonds as sturdy as the tree himself..

Some of his friends were weary and sad. Those people leant against him, feeling the energy slowly return as they waited in his presence.

Some seeked shelter from the elements. They found safety under the canopy of his leaves, secure in the knowledge that he had their back.

Some just needed a friend to share their fears and dreams with. He listened with all his being, swishing his leaves in the breeze as they explored their future paths and unpacked their problems, leaving them at the foot of his trunk.

He spoke little but loved much.

And everyone who met him took a part of him away with them, a gift from the tree who knew exactly what they needed. The ones who needed inspiration were given a leaf with them as they travelled. When they needed encouragement they looked at the leaf, tracing the intricate patterns, the asymmetric designs, marveling at the way the colours flowed among one another and back again. Each leaf was unique. And this is how the tree taught them of nature and it's ability to inspire the downtrodden.

The ones who needed support through their trials were given a branch, strong and sturdy, an extra limb for when they were weak. With it they could climb the highest mountains and cross dangerous torrents. They leant on it when weary, and defended themselves from the wild. And this is how the tree taught them that nothing is too big to conquer and they are the masters of their own destiny.

The ones who needed soothing were given the stories and songs that the tree had taught them. They could sit and stir up from their heart the wisdom of their old friend, remember the whistling of the wind in its leaves, the dancing of the branches in the breeze, the stories within his bark, story after story after story etched like the concentric circles within his trunk. From his first story as a sapling through to the final climatic tale.

One night, a mighty storm happened upon the land, the winds screaming like banshees across the sky, the rain firing bullets into the river below. The tree swayed and danced through the night, allowing the tempest to move him, joining in with the song of the storm, the beat of the rain, the melody of the wind. His body bent and creaked and became the storm, nature and nature, atoms and elements. The tree told his final story as it left the earth it had been rooted in for so many years.

And so when the people heard of the tree's final tale they came and sat together around the place it had once stood. One by one they brought out the parts of the tree that they had carried with them throughout their lives, from the years, months or days in which they had known him, the parts he had shared. They revealed his stories, each one different, each one a testimony to how the tree had changed them.

And in doing so the tree lived on. The stories that once came from within his bark were passed on and on. And the greatest story of all is this:

That once, there stood a tree.
A tree who gave away all he had to help all he met.
A tree who spoke little and loved much.
And a tree who danced through the biggest storm the world had seen, beautifully at one with nature.

And we will never forget him.