A Tree Grows On Woodridge Road

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Fifteen, maybe eighteen years ago when the kids were young—so hard to remember every milestone—we planted a six-foot-high sugar maple and said, Oh, we’ll see it grow tall and beautiful someday, and sure enough the tree must be thirty feet high now, healthy and gorgeous in every season. Such a fine tree is our sugar maple, living proof we were here and time has passed. And this year I planted one-foot-high spruce trees, barely more than twigs, ten of them, and five survived the cruelty of winter and are showing new growth that soothes my heart, but I’m not saying, Oh, I’ll see these trees grow tall and beautiful someday, because I won’t be around when these tiny trees tower, but they can thrive just fine with or without me and if a few trees are my only legacy then at least I have done a little something beautiful for the world.

By David Klein

David Klein

Published novelist, creative writer, journalist, avid reader, discriminating screen watcher.

Novels

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