tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-22937882534613297362024-03-12T19:10:29.451-07:00Children's Storiesworldtravelerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10051678756468540310noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2293788253461329736.post-28620681594452409282013-07-04T13:29:00.001-07:002013-07-05T20:57:18.946-07:00Lester Leaf<br />
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Lester Leaf</div>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>By C. R. Peraino</div>
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Olivia towers beside the path through Jones Park. She is one of the tallest oaks in Jonestown. The acorn she grew from fell off a white oak that was the victim of a lightning strike hundreds of years ago. Her grooved trunk stretched high into the sky and her branches reach in every direction searching for sunlight. </div>
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Squirrels scamper up and down her bark looking for food and building nests in her branches. They’re the friends of oak trees. It’s true that squirrels eat acorns, the oak’s seeds, but they bury some to give them something to eat during the winter months. If the furry creatures forget where they buried an acorn, the little nut can grow into mighty oak trees. So, you see, Olivia and many of the other oaks in the park are alive because of forgetful squirrels. <br />
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Other plants surround Olivia too. Neighbors Billy Beech and Susan Shagbark Hickory trees grow close-by in the park. They are younger and smaller than Olivia. Hattie Huckleberry and Henrietta Hazelnut as well as other bushes also live beneath Olivia’s long zigzagging arms. It’s a happy community of greenery, each one doing their part to feed and protect the animals.</div>
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Late one March, snow clung to Olivia’s branches and hugged one side of her trunk, wedged in the large grooves of her bark. </div>
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“This has been a long winter,” Betty Beech said shaking her branches and gazing up at Olivia.</div>
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“You’re too young to remember the winter of ’08,” said Olivia barely moving a twig. “The snow was halfway up my trunk by the end of February. Of course I was only a hundred years old then and much smaller.”</div>
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Susan Shagbark shook her trunk in disbelief. “Only a hundred? How old are you now?”</div>
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Betty Beech shook her longest branch so that the snow on it landed on Susan Shagbark’s trunk. “Don’t you know to never ask a lady her age?”</div>
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“That’s okay,” said Olivia calmly, “I don’t mind. I’m two hundred and fifty years old and still growin’. You young’uns will be glad to know that my roots say the warm seasons are coming. </div>
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“That’s good to hear,” said Susan.</div>
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Three weeks later a warm wind came whistling through the park, just as Olivia predicted. It blew the snow from Olivia’s branches. As the wind blew harder Olivia’s branches swayed back and forth. She sighed as she felt stirrings of life flow up through her tall trunk into her branches.</div>
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“Ahhhhh, it never gets old, feelin’ new life when spring arrives!” </div>
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The ends of her branches formed brown buds.</div>
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<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Olivia pumped fluids into the tender new growth at the end of her stems and the buds began to expand. The edges of the brown buds began to turn red and green.</div>
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Soon red sprouts burst from the bud. They reminded Olivia of the fiery rays of the sun as it rose each the morning.<br />
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Betty Birch leaned toward Olivia and remarked, “Those are beautiful!” </div>
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Olivia smiled and lifted her branches a little higher so everyone in the park could see. “Thank you. My babies are always beautiful.”</div>
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Gradually a green and red shape with rounded edges began to fill out. Olivia named the new leaf Lester. </div>
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Lester was not alone. As other leaves filled out Olivia’s branches and she named each one. Nearby there were Larry, Linda, Lynn, Lou-Ann and so on. Those were only the ones close to Lester on his little branch. Lester looked around at all the branches each with hundreds of leaves and wondered how his mother could think of so many names beginning with L.<br />
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Olivia loved all her leaves. She sent water and minerals up to them through her trunk, and held them up to the sunlight. They loved her right back by making food for her with their chlorophyll. Lester had fun soaking up the sun and waving in the breezes that blew through the forest that summer. He and his branch mates watched all the people and animals pass below them on the path and sometimes they clapped together when they saw something really special. One time a Robby Rabbit scampered away from Freddy Fox just in time. Lester and his brothers and sisters almost wore themselves out applauding the occasion. </div>
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When Lester and his brother and sister leaves got bored with basking in the sun and making food, they picked on the leaves of the plants below. They told the leaves on the Huckleberry<br />
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and Hazelnut,<br />
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that they should be ashamed about being close to the ground. Olivia scolded her leaves for picking on the other leaves, but they continued. They even mocked the plants with small pointy leaves and branches that sagged down that grew nearby, calling them <img src="webkit-fake-url://667920C4-456B-4CD9-8E89-AD56039020BB/application.pdf" />“droopies” and “thinnies”. <br />
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Olivia told them they shouldn’t make fun of the plants closer to the ground because some day they would be at the same level as the other leaves.</div>
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“The Creator God made those plants too, and their leaves are as important and valuable to the park as you are,” she said. “It’s all part of His plan.</div>
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But they didn’t believe her. “How could that be?” they would ask. “We’re up here above them all.”</div>
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In September and early October the nights got longer and cooler winds blew. One morning a strange white covering chilled Lester. He turned to Olivia and asked, “What is this stuff?”</div>
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“It’s called frost,” she said. “It’s frozen water and the first sign that the cold season is almost here.”</div>
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As October continued, Lester and his branch mates began to turn more and more reddish in color. Lester looked around at the other trees and bushes and noticed that their colors were changing too. That is, all but the trees with the tiny needle like leaves; they stayed green. </div>
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Lester again asked Olivia about the meaning of this change. “The days are gettin’ shorter,” she said, “so you don’t need the green chlorophyll to make food for me anymore ‘cause I’ve stored up ‘nough food for the winter. Thank you. Now your true color’s comin’ out. Until now, it has been hidden by chlorophyll’s green color.” </div>
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Full of pride because of their bright new color, Lester and his branch mates mocked any leaf that was not a deep rusty red. “Look at us, everyone. Our red color is more beautiful than your yellow and orange.”<br />
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Olivia shook them. “Stop that bragging,” she said. “Your color is beautiful, but, mixed together with their colors, the forest is more beautiful.”<img src="webkit-fake-url://A361B303-83D9-4D1A-BB68-A08FB8920A98/application.pdf" /></div>
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As October continued and the days shortened, Lester noticed less flow of fluids between him and Olivia. One mid October afternoon he saw his branch mate Larry drift past him. </div>
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“Larry,” he called. “Where are you going?” </div>
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A fading voice reached him from below. “I have a sinking feeling,” he said.</div>
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Later that week Linda and Lynn floated by. Lester started to shake on his stem as he looked at the empty branches that surrounded him. Using what little connection he had with Olivia, Lester asked why this was happening.</div>
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“Don’t you love us anymore?” he asked </div>
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“Of course I do,” she said, “but trees like me that have stiff up-reaching branches have to lose their leaves so that when it snows the weight of the snow on top of the leaves would not break my branches. Also, during the winter, there is less rain and the snow won’t melt into the ground until spring. If I kept you and your brothers and sisters, I would lose all my moisture and die.” </div>
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“What happens to me?” asked Lester. </div>
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“You will fall off my branch onto the ground along with the other leaves from the trees and bushes,” replied Olivia.</div>
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Lester lowered his eyes “You mean I’ll be down there with ‘them’?’” </div>
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“Yes, you’ll all be together, except the ‘thinnies’ as you called them. They will stay on their trees. They’ve been designed by The Creator to allow the snow to slide off their sagging branches so they won’t break. Also, their ‘leaves’ have a waxy material that allows them to keep their moisture during the dryer winter time.” <img src="webkit-fake-url://F8953A70-1F4E-4986-BB73-97522E3253B7/application.pdf" /><br />
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“But…”</div>
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“You’ll see.” Those were the last words Lester heard from Olivia. </div>
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Lester was confused by the answer. “Who’s this Creator and what is His plan for me?”</div>
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Shortly after, Lester felt the connection between him and the tree he had known all his life start to loosen and, when a strong cold wind arose, he floated to the ground.<br />
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“Yuk,” he said as the wind blew him into one of the huckleberry bushes.</div>
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“Well, look who’s here.”</div>
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Lester turned over and looked at a leaf that had just fallen off the bush. “Welcome to the world of the ‘ground dwellers’. You’re not so high and mighty now, I see.”</div>
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“I don’t want to be down here with you, but my parent tree says this is all part of a ‘Plan’. Do you know what she means?”</div>
<div>
“Yes. You see we would freeze when the weather gets colder and our plants can’t protect us. So The Creator allows our trees to only keep buds, stems, and twigs through the winter because they can survive. When we’re on the ground we can protect the roots of our parents from the extreme temperatures. What’s even better, after a couple of seasons on the ground, the stuff we are made of will return to the soil and be used by our parents to make new branches and leaves. So you see, we are all equally valuable.”</div>
<div>
“You mean that someday I will live again? That’s great!”</div>
<div>
“Its all part of The Creator’s plan,” he said as another gust of wind lifted the Hackberry leaf out of sight.</div>
<div>
Now Lester knew what Olivia had been talking about and felt good about being with the other leaves. He snuggled up to the rest of the leaves around him. </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
worldtravelerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10051678756468540310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2293788253461329736.post-868954497445097922013-07-04T08:59:00.002-07:002013-07-05T21:27:26.027-07:00Olivia Oak<!--[if !mso]>
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<b><span style="font-size: 20.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> Olivia Oak </span>by
C. R. Peraino</b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikyXTNW28pCGXuYBNQ91dljZDSo6cVaW60pe3-6VE_ES-MsseHzv-vBU45itTEspeXM9CWLZR1RlllNykODyXOZ2sOTn88AvLqSM6uJbl1qAlbH6ffoPxcvSKte-j9xjOHBCtQrC_wxv3O/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="453" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikyXTNW28pCGXuYBNQ91dljZDSo6cVaW60pe3-6VE_ES-MsseHzv-vBU45itTEspeXM9CWLZR1RlllNykODyXOZ2sOTn88AvLqSM6uJbl1qAlbH6ffoPxcvSKte-j9xjOHBCtQrC_wxv3O/s640/images.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<b><br /></b>
<img src="webkit-fake-url://4014FCDC-9CE2-4EBE-BD8B-EA89542E3D03/application.pdf" /></div>
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://E839364B-1691-4DD9-8E30-7EA4D691DF8D/application.pdf" />THUMP. “Ouch! What am
I doing down here?” said Olivia acorn as she landed among the leaves at the
base of her mother tree’s trunk. She looked up at the huge gnarled tree
she had just fallen from and thought, <i>Thank
goodness for these leaves.</i> <i> I would have broken into a million
pieces if I had landed on something hard. I wonder why I’m down here. It was so nice up on that branch. The view was …<o:p></o:p></i><img src="webkit-fake-url://FAA42303-881A-403E-9D36-51C77180B628/application.pdf" /></div>
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<i><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7LxuQMhTjC_s3edmLT-zmCGcXcF6boHbFOHlQ3ZHnmxvcEwqqTVPe0pH5WvPRnF8Akf2L0CoN-CfJHUhdgLrWV2qEppFsp8cceyZsMxWy6Ta06sQ4ocEoYgZEps2YpBJoC5HXSv3FCZC/s1600/images-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjr7LxuQMhTjC_s3edmLT-zmCGcXcF6boHbFOHlQ3ZHnmxvcEwqqTVPe0pH5WvPRnF8Akf2L0CoN-CfJHUhdgLrWV2qEppFsp8cceyZsMxWy6Ta06sQ4ocEoYgZEps2YpBJoC5HXSv3FCZC/s1600/images-1.jpg" /></a></i></div>
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“Pardon me,” said
Lawrence, a leaf that fell a week before.
“That was quite impolite, falling on me like that!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“I’m
sorry,” said Olivia. “I had no control over where I landed. When my tree let me go, the wind blew
me over here. Did I hurt you?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Lawrence
looked over his reddish surface and at the curling edges of his rounded lobes
and crackled, “No, I suppose
not. I’m getting dryer every day
and, according to my older companions, I’ll start to fall apart soon
anyway.” He continued, “I’m going back to the soil to give
nutrients to our mother. It’s
quite an honor, you know. I’ve
been told that it’s part of The Creator’s wonderful plan.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Olivia
rolled on her side. “I wonder if
I’m part of that plan. My hard
shell will make it hard for me to crumble.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Oh,
I’m sure there’s a place in His plan for something as beautiful as you. That
fuzzy little cap on top of your shiny brown shell makes you quite attractive,”
said Lawrence. “The squirrels seem
to think so. They’re busy
gathering all the ones that look like you. Some they eat,” he said, extending with great effort one of
his drying lobes in the direction of bits of brown shell scattered on the
ground. “Others they bury. There’s one of them now! Watch out!”<br />
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“Squirrels? Eat? Bury?”
Olivia said, looking at the pieces
of broken shells on the ground.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPUAulgn7Y_JscvAoV_WBeFN3C548iJL87Guk7y62fPLbZPW_xRAXw1hDmcKyvknKWmPwllcHrNkU2ersjAUIT8wCzKvJmnn_QjvZVEp0WWyDshe9cwKKGpDzWAdEdaygAZ20kqA6cU7h/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKPUAulgn7Y_JscvAoV_WBeFN3C548iJL87Guk7y62fPLbZPW_xRAXw1hDmcKyvknKWmPwllcHrNkU2ersjAUIT8wCzKvJmnn_QjvZVEp0WWyDshe9cwKKGpDzWAdEdaygAZ20kqA6cU7h/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
“What are you talking about?”<img src="webkit-fake-url://094F55B0-19A3-4261-8490-9B5CE9D923BA/application.pdf" /> </div>
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Before she could
get an answer to her question, Olivia felt herself lifted by two paws and clenched
like a vice between teeth.</div>
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://99B8C56E-1860-4081-BD9E-BBBD38624AE4/application.pdf" style="line-height: 200%;" /><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><img src="webkit-fake-url://8D3323B6-2CDB-4988-9E82-265E87A36F46/application.pdf" style="line-height: 200%;" /><br />
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“What’s…happen…ing? Ohhhh, you must be a squirrel. What are you going to do with me?”
Olivia asked as the animal began moving toward a field. Her captor stopped at the edge of the
open area, looked around, and continued, bounding across it. Before reaching the other side, the
squirrel suddenly stopped, and look up.
Olivia saw a large bird with a hooked beak diving from the sky. The squirrel dropped her,
and plunging for cover under a nearby bush. </div>
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“Owwww,” Olivia
cried as a hard rock punctured a hole in her shiny shell when she landed.<img src="webkit-fake-url://56F22F35-7CD8-43FA-81A6-C2C646CBC13F/application.pdf" /><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOj0J3Fyi4iL88QeXVZdpsq9UgkvZRmxDw59xOYY-neHmB9RETiGDo5AdriIVB7NzZuKLoIK2zgSiP0qRFaCi3axtFT09gju97nbnMFQFb3Tn-FETCFDNOdkoeBwdlUy4L7Q17I_aq4B9/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjOj0J3Fyi4iL88QeXVZdpsq9UgkvZRmxDw59xOYY-neHmB9RETiGDo5AdriIVB7NzZuKLoIK2zgSiP0qRFaCi3axtFT09gju97nbnMFQFb3Tn-FETCFDNOdkoeBwdlUy4L7Q17I_aq4B9/s1600/images.jpg" /></a></div>
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I’m
ruined,” she said. “I’m no longer
beautiful. I’ll never be part of The
Creator’s plan now!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
After
the bird flashed by and flew off, Olivia’s captor peered out from the bush, and
slowly approached where he had left his prize. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Olivia
cringed. “What are you going to do,
Mr. Squirrel? Now that I’m
damaged, are you going to eat me?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Without
answering ( squirrels don’t speak tree language) the squirrel brought her up to
its nose and sniffed at her. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Well, I
never…that’s rude,” Olivia said.
“I was just bathed by rain last evening.” The squirrel’s long thin whiskers wiggled up and down ant
its ears twitched in every direction.
Two shiny round black eyes that appeared and disappeared rapidly. Olivia would have put out her arms to
shove herself away from the nose, if she had any.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
With a sudden
movement, the squirrel placed Olivia on the ground, stopped to quickly survey
its surrounding’s, and began digging with both paws.<br />
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</div>
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Moments later Olivia was carried to the
hole, placed in it, and covered with loose soil. Darkness and quiet over took her. She snuggled down into her new surroundings. Here she felt safe from ending up like
those bits of other acorns. But
why was she here? And what will
happen now? Was this part of The Creator’s
plan that Lawrence Leaf talked about?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
As she lay in her
confinement, Olivia felt the soil around her become colder and harder. Once in a while she heard claws scratch
above her, but she remained in darkness.
The chill of her surroundings became deeper, and Olivia found herself napping
for longer and longer periods, until sleep overtook her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“What…wha…what’s
happening?” she said when she
woke. ”It’s warmer. The ground is wetter.
And I feel different.
Something’s happening…inside me.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Over the next
several days Olivia began to feel her self grow out from the hole in her shell,
up through the soil into the light.<img src="webkit-fake-url://3065C2BC-86C8-4A48-9D24-0FC9E622AC65/application.pdf" /></div>
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“I’m free!” she
shouted as she spread her new leaves for all to see. <br />
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“Humph,” said
Henry Hackberry. “Look at that
silly little sprout celebrating breaking out of the soil. Doesn’t it know it will have to fight
for every bit of sunlight it can in this forest in order to survive? It probably won’t amount to much.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“I wouldn’t be to
quick to judge that plant,” Sally Shagbark said. “That’s Ophelia Oak’s baby. A squirrel must have brought her over from the forest across
the field. They start out small,
but…”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“We’ll see,” said
Henry. “They don’t all survive,
you know. If this one doesn’t get enough water or
sunlight, or some deer thinks it will make a tasty snack.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Why are you being
so negative, Henry? I think she’s
cute.” She turned to the sprout
and asked, “What’s your name,
little one?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Olivia.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Sally smiled. “What a lovely name. Welcome to the forest.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Thank you,” said
Olivia, bowing slightly. “What are
your names?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“I’m Sally
Shagbark and this is Henry Hackberry.
Over there is Betty Birch, and next to her is Alicia Aspen. We’re going to be your neighbors for
some time.”<img src="webkit-fake-url://A4220863-DBC4-42DB-9431-3CA8C21DDD6D/application.pdf" /><br />
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Olivia waved a
leaf at each of them and said, “I’m glad to meet all of you. Are you all part of The Creator’s plan
too?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh, yes,” said
Betty Birch. “All of us are different,
but that’s part of His plan.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“What do you
mean?” asked Olivia.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Each of us grows
to different heights as we chase the sunlight we need,” Henry said. “All have different seeds that spread
in many ways so our children are more likely to survive. Even the bushes, like Harriet
Hobblebush serve a purpose in the plan. We feed various animals and are home to
different things. Being different
is good for all of us because we work together.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Wow! I’m part of
The Creator’s plan even though I wasn’t beautiful,” said Olivia. “It sure sounds exciting!” She spread her branches with joy and
continued to grow.</div>
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<!--EndFragment-->worldtravelerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10051678756468540310noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2293788253461329736.post-36358533154545194102013-07-03T10:12:00.002-07:002013-07-05T20:59:09.177-07:00The Storm<!--[if !mso]>
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<b> <span style="font-size: 36.0pt; line-height: 200%; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">The Storm</span>
by C. R. Peraino</b><br />
<b><br /></b></div>
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://7F543F9C-0A3B-4B86-B443-D743742230DC/application.pdf" /><!--[endif]--></div>
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<a href="webkit-fake-url://B08D8BB4-E135-4632-B0B4-1436870FBBC0/application.pdf" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="webkit-fake-url://B08D8BB4-E135-4632-B0B4-1436870FBBC0/application.pdf" /></a><b><i>“Kaboom!” </i></b>The loud noise echoed
among the neighboring trees.</div>
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“What was that?” Olivia’s voice shook.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
A strong wind
pushed on Olivia Oak’s branches and her leaves waved wildly. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“There’s a storm
coming,” said Sally Shagbark swaying nearby.<img src="webkit-fake-url://B45C35C9-B6F6-41C8-AC62-F69C80F091E7/application.pdf" /> <span style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
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A shaft of light cut
through the gathering darkness overhead.<br />
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Olivia’s slim
trunk bent backwards, as the wind blew harder. One of her new branches almost broke. “Ow!” she said. “This is scary!”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
Henry Hackberry scowled down at the
little tree.<img src="webkit-fake-url://78BFE9C8-5A1B-48E3-941A-5C1D6503C54B/application.pdf" /><br />
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<a href="webkit-fake-url://9473257D-BA3A-4DBD-90CC-9C0187D726EC/application.pdf" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="webkit-fake-url://9473257D-BA3A-4DBD-90CC-9C0187D726EC/application.pdf" /></a></div>
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2293788253461329736" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a>Figure <!--[if supportFields]><span style='mso-element:
field-begin'></span><span style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>SEQ Figure \*
ARABIC <span style='mso-element:field-separator'></span><![endif]-->1<!--[if supportFields]><span style='mso-element:
field-end'></span><![endif]--> <span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;">The Hackberry tree has been
called admiringly, "one tough tree!" Found on a wide range of soils
east of the Rockies from southern Canada to Florida</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 24.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“You should be afraid,” he said. “That streak of light was lightening. It can cause a fire. The wind can tear you right out of the
soil.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Stop frightening
her,” scolded Sally Shagbark. “She’s only a year old.” <br />
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<br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://9813051D-7511-4BDD-9643-58C85ACD5AAD/application.pdf" /><br />
<img src="webkit-fake-url://895166EC-053E-4686-884E-7A3DE831B7CC/application.pdf" /></div>
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</div>
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://92B72CB7-E9C9-4477-A7BB-4B575C3A39EB/application.pdf" /><!--[endif]--></div>
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Figure <!--[if supportFields]><span style='font-size:
9.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'><span style='mso-element:field-begin'></span><span
style="mso-spacerun: yes"> </span>SEQ Figure \* ARABIC <span
style='mso-element:field-separator'></span></span><![endif]--><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;">2</span><!--[if supportFields]><span style='font-size:9.0pt;
mso-bidi-font-size:12.0pt'><span style='mso-element:field-end'></span></span><![endif]--><span style="font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-size: 12.0pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: 9pt;">Shagbark hickory is evenly distributed throughout the Eastern States
and, together with pignut hickory, furnishes the bulk of the commercial
hickory. The tough resilient properties of the wood make it suitable for
products subject to impact and stress. The sweet nuts, once a staple food for
American Indians, provide food for wildlife.</span><br />
<span style="font-size: 9pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 24.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
“Just
telling her the truth,” said Henry smugly. “Now that she’s above the soil all
kinds of nasty things could happen to her. She needs to know the truth…”<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; margin-bottom: 24.0pt; mso-layout-grid-align: none; mso-pagination: none; text-autospace: none; text-indent: .5in;">
Sally
shook her leaves in Henry’s direction, “The truth is that storms are part of
the Creator’s plan and everything He plans is good.”<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Confused
by the argument, Olivia looked up at her neighbors, “How could something so frightening be good? It almost broke one of my branches.”<span style="font-size: 9pt; line-height: 200%;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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“Well, let’s talk
about that,” said Sally. “The
thing that pushed against you was the wind. The wind is moving air. When the wind pushes your branches, it makes the fluids in
them move. Those movements bring
water to your leaves. They also carry food that your leaves make to the rest of
your parts. So you see the wind is
a good thing.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“What about that
bright light and that…that loud sound?” Olivia asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
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that?” asked Betty Birch, her
white bark graying in the diming light.<br />
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Figure <![if supportFields]><span style='mso-element:
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\* ARABIC <span style='mso-element:field-separator'></span><![endif]><span
style='mso-no-proof:yes'>3</span><![if supportFields]><span
style='mso-element:field-end'></span><![endif]> <span style='font-size:
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Arial'>Birch trees are midsized deciduous trees that grow from 30 to 65
feet tall. The most interesting characteristic is its bark, which helps
identification. The</span><span style='font-size:21.0pt;font-family:Arial;
mso-bidi-font-family:Arial'> </span><span style='font-size:9.0pt;
mso-bidi-font-size:21.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial'>sharp-edged
leaves are typically green, and usually turn yellow in fall. Birch trees
are</span><span style='font-size:21.0pt;font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:
Arial'> </span><span style='font-size:9.0pt;mso-bidi-font-size:21.0pt;
font-family:Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial'>considered short-lived with a
lifespan of 80 to 140 years</span><span style='font-size:21.0pt;font-family:
Arial;mso-bidi-font-family:Arial'><o:p></o:p></span></p>
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<br />
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Figure <!--[if supportFields]><span style='mso-element:
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ARABIC <span style='mso-element:field-separator'></span><![endif]-->3<!--[if supportFields]><span style='mso-element:
field-end'></span><![endif]--> <span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 21.0pt;">Birch trees are midsized deciduous
trees that grow from 30 to 65 feet tall. The most interesting characteristic is
its bark, which helps identification. The</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 21.0pt;">sharp-edged
leaves are typically green, and usually turn yellow in fall. Birch trees are</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"> </span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 9.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial; mso-bidi-font-size: 21.0pt;">considered short-lived with a lifespan of 80 to 140 years</span><span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 21.0pt; mso-bidi-font-family: Arial;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</v:shape><![endif]--><!--[if !vml]--><!--[endif]-->Sally’s
long strips of bark curled with excitement. “The flashes of light are called lightning. When they happen, they create nitrogen
in the air, and the rain brings it down to the soil. We need that chemical to grow. So you see, the bright light is a good thing.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Rain?
I remember seeing water droplets when I was an acorn on my mother’s branch, but
they went right by me and I didn’t think much about them. Was that rain?”</div>
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“Wait,
Olivia,” said Sally. “You’ll
see. The clouds carry
water…oh…here it comes!” </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
A water drop hit
one of Olivia’s leaves, then another, and another. <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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</div>
Droplets of water began to patter
on the ground all around her.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Is
this something good from the Creator too?” Olivia asked.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Oh
yes,” answered Sally. “Without the
rain, we would die. The rainwater
soaks into the soil and allows our roots to take the nutrients we need.“ </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Are
you going to tell her, or should I?” asked Henry.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Tell
her what?” asked Sally.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“About
floods from too much rain,” said Henry, turning toward Olivia. “You can drown, you know. Yes, too much water and your roots won’t
be able to breath.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Just
then, a flash of light made trunks of all the trees to look as white as Betty
Birch’s bark, and the raindrops pounded her leaves. </div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%; text-indent: .5in;">
“Oh my, the water
is getting rather high,” said Henry.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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“Hush,
Henry. Don’t let him scare you,
little one. You’re so young – you have a long tree life ahead of you. It’s true that there are dangers above
the soil. Too much water can kill
you, and so could fire caused by lightning, but even in death, the Creator has
a plan.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“How
could death be good?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Look
around, Olivia,” said Sally. “Do
you see the trunks of trees lying on the ground?”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Yes,
I see one over there.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
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<img src="webkit-fake-url://6DF0AA61-0D7D-4940-8464-83EA39D40CE9/application.pdf" style="line-height: 200%;" /> <img src="webkit-fake-url://DEB5B39E-C7A2-4B3A-A96D-5B320B575366/application.pdf" style="line-height: 200%;" /><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span><img src="webkit-fake-url://18F68459-C663-43E5-BEAB-AB5E80AD5BB5/application.pdf" style="line-height: 200%;" /><span style="line-height: 200%;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“That
was Charley Cherry Tree. He was a
good neighbor, but he grew old and, one day, during a storm like this one, the
wind blew him down.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
Olivia
looked over at the rotting trunk and said, “He doesn’t look like a good thing to me. He doesn’t even look like a tree
anymore. He’s all crumbly at one
end.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“That’s
the point,” Sally said. “The
Creator is helping Charley return to the soil. He’s giving back to the soil the chemicals he collected during
his life and that helps us live.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Yeah,”
said Olivia. “I remember a leaf
named Lawrence who said he was going back to the soil to give nutrients back to
feed his mother tree. He seemed
happy about it. He said it was
part of the plan too.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=2293788253461329736" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"></a> A
distant rumble of thunder and an opening in the clouds showed the storm was
ending. A beam of sunlight
splashed on the forest. Olivia
looked around and raised her leaves toward the sky. “Isn’t the Creator’s plan wonderful,” she shouted. “Even things that appear to be bad, He
uses for good.”</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 200%;">
“Yes,”
said Sally Shagbark. “And makes
beauty where there was darkness.”<br />
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<!--EndFragment-->worldtravelerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10051678756468540310noreply@blogger.com0