Every day I watch the children in the schoolyard running and laughing. I see wide grins, eager conversation, even scraped knees and crying. Every day people saunter past my figure and pass under my draping leaves. Some of them even pull off my leaves, but I don't mind. Some sit beneath my branches and admire my beauty. Some enjoy a picnic with friends and family, thankful for the shade I cast upon them. But one day, after school was done, a young girl with hair as bright as corn approached me. She had piercing emerald eyes, rosy red cheeks, a heart shaped face, and a petite figure. She was all alone, and she needed a friend. So I swayed my branches and she began to laugh a beautiful, joyful laugh that resonated in the base of my trunk, filling me with happiness I had never felt before. She started to run around my trunk, giggling the entire time. And when she tripped on one of my protruding roots, her huge smile widened even more before she easily stood back up. The girl then launched into a loud performance of singing and dancing. So many people had passed by me over my many years, but not one like this girl. Nobody seemed to care about me, until now. The little girl ran to my base and began to climb. She dug one foot into an indent in my bark and pulled herself onto a strong branch of mine. Just when I thought her delicate little frame had had enough, she continued with her ascent. She climbed and she climbed, laughing the entire time, but I didn't mind; I was happy to have her company. Now at my highest branch, she rested her legs and sat down, leaning against my trunk. She didn't say anything, but I didn't mind. We just enjoyed the peaceful rush of the wind, the rustle of the leaves, and the sweet chirping of the birds. "My name is Holly" the little girl said after a long silence. 'I'm 6 years old!" she continued to explain with enthusiasm. She babbled on and on, telling me about herself and all the things she liked to do. She told me how she didn't have many friends because she was shy around other people. "That's why I came here to talk to you." she told me. "You won't make fun of me or laugh at me." she explained. Every day after that Holly came to visit me at four o'clock. She clambered onto my highest branch, ate her butterscotch pudding cup, and chattered away. She talked for a long time, sometimes even hours; but I didn't mind. This happened for about a year. I looked forward to seeing Holly everyday- it was the highlight of my day. "I have so much to tell you!" She would squeal when she approached my base. Yes, there were the birds, the bugs, the flowers, and the other children-but not one like Holly. She always made me feel important. Even in the most miserable of days, when snow or rain crashed down from the skies, or the blaring sun beat down on us, Holly still came. With butterscotch pudding in hand, she would run up to me and climb up my trunk like always. Holly even asked the school if they could install a tire swing to one of my branches. They agreed, and Holly was ecstatic. I didn't even mind that none of the children from the school yard came to climb my trunk or swing on the tire, because Holly was the only friend I needed. So just like always, Holly arrived at my trunk before mounting the tire swing. She began to swing as high as she could, and her laugh echoed through the once silent air. After that, she stayed just a bit later than usual, staying on the tire swing as long as possible. Though our time together was precious, Holly always managed to tell me every little detail in her life. Over time she made some friends, and she became less shy. Her birthday passed and she forgot to visit me. I was so lonely that day. Before i met Holly, i didn't mind the silence or the loneliness, but now it was much harder to be alone, especially after knowing what it was like to have a friend. The next she returned and told me she had had a birthday party and she couldn't see me. "I'm seven now, did you know that?" Holly asked me, despite the fact that I couldn't answer. Instead, i shook my branches and rained my leaves on Holly, earning a happy laugh from her. She ate her pudding cup, swung on the tire swing, and climbed my trunk, and i completely forgot about every sad emotion i had felt the previous day. The next day she returned and we had fun as always, but the day after that she forgot again. And the day after that. And the day after that. One week later Holly rushed to me and told me she was playing with her friends the whole week and she didn't have time for me. But Holly asked for me to forgive her and flashed a brilliant white smile. She then proceeded to swing on the tire and climb my trunk and I could almost forgive her for forgetting about me. The next week I felt more deserted and abandoned than I thought possible. Holly didn't visit- not even once. I knew she was probably with her new friends, but she was my only friend. If a tree could cry, I probably would have that week. But I couldn't because trees can't cry. And the worst part was that she had even told me I was her best friend. Some may find that odd or sad, but I felt honoured to be her best friend; especially since I'd never had a friend before. And she was the best friend anyone could ever have. When holly finally decided to visit me again and she laughed her loud, lovely laugh, all my worries went away and it seemed like old times again. But holly wasn't the same. She didn't like to swing on the tire, she didn't like to climb my trunk, she didn't even like to eat her butterscotch pudding cup anymore. Apparently none of the other kids her age did those things, so neither did she. She just brought a blanket and sat next to me, but i didn't mind. i was happy to have her sitting next to me at all. but days passed and i saw holly less and less. We were drifting apart and there was nothing i could do about it. That's another thing that sucks about being a tree, I can't talk. I couldn't tell Holly how sad I was. Holly started visiting me only once a week or less. The only time she would visit me was when her friends were mad at her. She didn't play any games, she just sat and talked- but I didn't mind. I just sat and listened intently. She told me how her best friend had betrayed her, and how her crush was rude to her. I realized how much she had grown up since that first day her small little figure wandered up to me. She told me about every birthday she had, so I added all of them up and I concluded that she was 12. 5 years had gone by since I met that beaming, shining little girl. And now we were drifting apart, even after everything we'd been through. Eventually Holly stopped visiting me and my days felt longer than they had ever been. The loneliness was torture, and the silence was unbearable. The schoolyard, although filled with many joyful students, seemed sad and empty. I felt sad and empty. I never thought a tree could have so many emotions. But Holly had made me feel solid and complete, but now I felt hollow and broken.
