Those who love The Giving Tree have never lived their lives as the tree.
I plucked a cool grey stone from the stream’s sleepy bed. A perfect stone-skipping stone— flat and smooth— good for at least five skips, I guessed. I turned it over in my palm, ran my thumb around its polished contours. I imagined its journey— dislodged from river’s bottom, heaved, propelled, smashed by punishing torrents. UntilContinue reading “Transformation”