Back in art school years and years ago a close friend gave this illustrated children's book to me as a Christmas gift. As it happened, after we both received our Bachelor of Fine Art degree she and I slowly drifted out of touch. I kept the book. It wasn't until years later that I realized the story of The Giving Tree was that of me and my parents. And after my dad died a few years ago it's now just me and Mom (my siblings live their own lives, dispersed across the country).
Mom? She is the Tree.
I can't read this book without crying towards the end, and even now as I type I'm tearing up. How can something so simply told leave one with such heavy and profound emotions?
Mom? She is the Tree.
I can't read this book without crying towards the end, and even now as I type I'm tearing up. How can something so simply told leave one with such heavy and profound emotions?
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2 comments:
Beiddie, I'm sure you appreciate your mother's generous nature now that you've lived with her and reflected about her sacrifices for her children. I imagine your father also has been quite the giving man for all of you also. You are quite skilled in so many ways and generous to a fault. I'm sure both your parents are proud of you.
I think the challenge for us gay men is to find ways to give back to others who may not be as dependent upon us as children nor as close as family members, but equally needy for our attention, assistance, and encouragement. I regreat that we've not met though we've corrresponded for over 2 years now. I look forward to the day we meet and share laughter, smiles, and hugs. Best wishes keeping and finding good friends. Peace and Good, Bill
Those books are very powerful. I was volunteering in a HeadStart program in the South Bronx and it was story time and they had "where the wild things are" and I thought 'Oh, that was my favorite book when I was four, I can't wait to read it to them.' So I read it to them and when I got to the last line, "and it was still hot," my voice broke and I started to cry. All these three and four year olds were staring at me, utterly baffled. [g]
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