CHAPTER 9

The Tree

Every Halloween, Sophia dressed up as something to remind people to take better care of the planet. She thought it was important to spread a green message instead of just saying “trick-or-treat.” This year, Sophia dressed up as a tree.

“Why are you dressed as broccoli?” Jacob asked.

“I’m not. I’m a tree,” Sophia explained. “I wanted to remind people about deforestation.”

“De-for-a-what?” Jacob asked her.

“Deforestation,” Sophia corrected him. “It’s when greedy companies destroy forests for selfish gain. This leaves all the little woodland creatures homeless!”

Thinking about those squirrels and chipmunks and raccoons having no place to live made Sophia sad. So she had some candy. As she chewed, Sophia’s feet and toes stretched out, digging roots into the classroom’s floor. Her hands and fingers rose upward, sprouting into branches. Her hair turned green and grew into leaves.

Sophia had become a real tree, right in the center of Classroom 13.

I’m a tree! she thought. I’m so happy to be giving all my friends fresh, clean air and plenty of shade. This is wonderf—

A tap-tap-tap-tap interrupted Sophia’s thoughts. There was a loud squeak-squeak-squeak coming from inside of her stomach.

She quickly realized what had happened. A family of woodpeckers and squirrels was living inside her. She thought, This is even more wonderful! Now I am a home to animals!

But as the squirrels ran across her branches, they tore off her acorns with their teensy little claws. OW! she wanted to scream. That hurts!

The tap-tap-tap-tap of the woodpeckers didn’t feel good, either. It was like someone knocking on her head with a sharp beak. Nonstop.

It’s okay, she thought. I have become a beautiful, wonderful tree, a home to animals, and what’s a little pain if not—YOWZA!! STOP THAT!

Now a family of caterpillars was eating her leaves. It felt like someone eating her fingernails. Unfortunately, no matter how much it hurt, she couldn’t say a word. Trees don’t speak. At least not in any language that people or animals understand.

“Excuse me,” said Little Linda Riding Hood, “by any chance are you a talking magical tree that can point me toward Grandmama’s cottage?”

Sophia couldn’t move or say a thing.

Little Linda Riding Hood frowned. “Oh, well. Though you do have a nice trunk. If I find the woodsman, perhaps I can have him chop you down and make you into a nice bench for sitting.”

Sophia gulped. She’d always loved trees, but she’d always assumed they had wonderful lives. Now she knew exactly how trees felt—and it was terrible. There was nothing she could do except let the animals eat her.