I am so happy. I am a seedling. My two leaves feel the warmth of the sun. I am in a forest, with many other trees. I call them my friends. I have grown much. I love being a tree. People don’t ‘see’ us. But I have my friends, that makes me happy.
Ohhh… there is a fire! Many of my friends are burned but I am still alive. People come and cut down my burned friends. Now I am all alone. I miss my friends. I feel so very sad, so very sad! It makes me sick. My leaves are turning brown and dry.
The tree doctor comes. He says that I am sick. Then they cut me down. Now I am watching from high above. I miss being a tree. I loved it.
The soul who was this young tree, is now a woman. One day man came and cut down the trees in front of her house. She became emotional and cried. Not knowing why…..
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfill themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farm boy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.”