Читать книгу Everything Grows - Aimee Herman - Страница 8

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DEAR ELINORE,

MY MOM USED TO READ TO ME WHEN I COULDN’T FALL ASLEEP. IT WAS ALWAYS THE GIVING TREE, I INSISTED. THE PICTURES WEREN’T ANYTHING SPECIAL. I LIKED HOW SAD THEY WERE. KID BOOKS ARE ALWAYS SO HAPPILY EVER AFTER, YOU KNOW? AND LIFE IS JUST NOT LIKE THAT. THAT BOY JUST KEEPS TAKING AND TAKING FROM THE TREE UNTIL THERE IS NOTHING ELSE. HE CARVES INTO IT, TAKES ITS BRANCHES, ITS APPLES, LEAVING JUST A STUMP. WHEN I WAS A KID, I THOUGHT ABOUT HOW LUCKY THIS BOY WAS TO HAVE A TREE AS HIS BEST FRIEND, BUT WHAT A MORON I WAS TO THINK THAT. THE BOY NEVER GAVE ANYTHING TO THIS TREE. THE BOY NEVER ASKED IT WHAT IT WANTED. NOW I HATE THIS BOOK BECAUSE IT REMINDS ME OF HOW BLIND WE ARE. EVERYONE JUST TAKES. NO ONE REALLY KNOWS ME AND NO ONE CARES TO. MY PARENTS THEY HAVE NO IDEA.

YOU PROBABLY READ THIS BOOK A MILLION TIMES, OR AT LEAST KNOW IT. I’VE SEEN YOU IN THE HALLWAYS WITH YOUR NOSE IN SOME BOOK—PROBABLY FOR PLEASURE AND NOT BECAUSE YOU HAVE TO, YOU’RE LIKE THAT. WE’VE GOT A WEEPING WILLOW IN OUR BACKYARD. YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS? YOU PROBABLY DO. I THOUGHT THEY ACTUALLY CRIED LIKE TEARS ON THEIR LEAVES SORT OF THING. THEY LOOK LIKE THEY’RE WEEPING, ALL HUNCHED OVER LIKE THEY FOUND OUT SOME BAD NEWS AND CAN’T SEEM TO RECOVER.

I THOUGHT ABOUT THIS ONE DAY ON THE BUS RIDE HOME FROM SCHOOL. FOR MONTHS, I’VE BEEN COLLECTING WAYS TO DO IT. THERE IS A TREE BY THE RAVINE NEAR MY HOUSE. IT’S REALLY BEUTIFUL BEAUTIFUL AND MAYBE I’VE ALWAYS KIND OF KNOWN THAT WAS THE ONE.