TREES

            I think that I shall never see
            A poem lovely as a tree
            A tree that looks at God all day
            And lifts her leafy arms to pray
                  From “Trees” by Joyce Kilmer

During the dry years, many of the trees had died. Even the mulberry, so well adapted to Kansas weather, had suffered a loss of nearly half of its row of trees as the water table dropped. The dead trees stood skeletal and gray. Most of the trees which had once shaded the house were gone. The three big cedar trees west of the house were too far away to be of much help. The box elders and the cottonwoods in the draw had survived, but the pasture hedge of thorny osage oranges suffered heavy damage too. Mother deplored the loss of the trees, as she remembered the tree shaded house and yard of her childhood home.

Jenny loved all trees, They made cool shade, their leaves rustled in the wind, they brought the birds they kept the ground underneath from washing away, and some were nice to climb. When she saw the tiny trees across the road from the plum thicket, beneath the box elder, the one Daddy used for making whistles, she decided she would dig up some and plant them in the yard. She took the heavy spade and a cardboard box and dug as many as she could carry. It was hard work, but she felt happy. She planted them shallowly on the hard dry ground northeast of the house and could imagine a lovely grove there.

As soon as Daddy got off the tractor to come in for dinner, she went over to him and said, “Come see my little trees. When these grow tall, we will have cool shade”, but alas the trees were limp and wilted in the hot sun and the chickens had scratched up most of them.

Daddy said, “Why that’s poison ivy. We’d better get rid of it.” He put on his work gloves and took them away. Luckily, Jenny didn’t get poison ivy, but she felt crushed all that day at the failed plan.