Why Am I Here

Why Am I Here?

T. J. Robertson

Smashwords Edition

Thank you for downloading this free ebook. You are welcome to share it with your friends. This book may be reproduced, copied, and distributed for non-commercial purposes, provided it remains in its complete original form. If you enjoyed this book, please return to Smashwords.com to discover other works by this author. Thank you for respecting his hard work.

* * * *

In the front yard of the Tadwells' house, on a cold and blustery winter evening, an old oak towered over a small fir tree.

"How I envy you," the little one said, looking up at him.

"For what?" the sturdy oak replied.

"I'm so small and weak and you're so big and strong," she complained. "I'll never grow as tall as you."

"I'm sure there are some advantages to being a fir," the patient, old hardwood said.

Ignoring his attempt to cheer her up, she said with a teensy bit of jealousy, "Why you're so tall I bet that, like a giant, you could reach up into the sky and catch a star or tickle the moon?"

"Oh, I wouldn't want to do anything like that," he protested. And that was the truth; for, indeed, if ever he were to become a giant, he would be a pleasant, gentle, and caring one.

"Besides, every spring you get a new coat of leaves while I'm stuck with the same dull ones," she moaned.

The branches of the oak shook in laughter.

"What's so funny?" the fir asked, glancing up at him.

"Here I am standing above you and shivering because the winter wind is whipping through my bare limbs and you're envying me? What I wouldn't give to be snuggled up in your warm coat of green needles."

"Oh, you're strong enough to withstand the coldest blast," she replied with a shrug, "and, as for coats, yours is better than mine."

"What do you mean?" he asked, staring down at her in disbelief.

"With the change in seasons yours turns into pretty colors of brown, red, and gold."

"What good are those colors doing me now?" her big neighbor said with a shudder from another icy gust.

"Why even as we talk you have a gray squirrel nesting within your spacious trunk. I've seen her feasting on the acorns beneath your limbs." She sighed in frustration. "I wish I had acorns to attract the squirrels."

"Hey," he replied, unable to hide his annoyance, "squirrels like pine cones, too, you know?

"Oh, sure," she replied gloomily, "but they like acorns better."

The wise, old tree just nodded with its bare branches. He knew nothing he could say would make his little friend happy.

"Last spring some robins built a nest on one of your limbs," she said wistfully. "I used to watch them flitting across your branches and peeking through the leaves."

"Yes, that was nice and I--" The oak tree stopped in the middle of the sentence because he didn't want to say anything that might make his little companion feel even worse.

"Oh, sure, sometimes a bird lands on one of my branches but it never stays long. I'm too small to offer a safe nesting place to squirrels or birds." Her voice saddened and her needles drooped as she said, "Oh, why am I here? I'll never be of use to anyone."

The big oak felt bad for his friend, saying, "Please don't talk like that. Everything on earth--including a tree like you--has a purpose. Someday I'm sure you'll find out what yours is."

For several months, young Jimmy Tadwell had been sick. It was one illness after another--mumps, chicken pox, and the flu. With Christmas approaching, his parents decided to do something special to brighten his spirits. Early one morning while he was sleeping, they went out to the front yard. To the surprise of the small fir, they placed strings of colorful lights, ropes of twinkling garlands, and a dozen of red and gold ornaments among her branches. The boy's dad even reached up and put a plastic angel on her crown.

That evening after supper Mr. and Mrs. Tadwell turned on the tree's lights and Jimmy danced with delight at the beauty of the fir, glowing in the darkness.

On the following nights, Jimmy stayed near the front window--often beyond his bedtime--admiring the splendor of the tree. Neighbors, passing by on evening walks, were heard to say, "What a beautiful sight to behold!" Even the stars above seemed to show their approval by sparkling more brightly than usual.

And one crisp, early dawn--most likely December 25th because a sleigh bell could be heard in the distance--the little tree looked up at the big oak and smiled. "Now, I know why I'm here on earth," she whispered.

###