On a hill there is a tree. It is a lonely crooked tree because there are no other trees by it. It is all by itself. The lonely crooked tree is special to me. You see, thrice a day for a week I took the long way so I could walk past the crooked lonely tree....
Under the lonely crooked tree, I spend time. It was under the lonely crooked tree that a girl helped me memorize lines. I remember clearly the sunny day; we sat in the shade of the tree. Those few hours of memorizing lines are very special to me. The girl had been working all day and she certainly didn't need to help me memorize lines. But she sacrificed her time, to help me memorize lines under the lonely crooked tree. She was infinitely patient with me. She was very very nice. Her voice, soothing, kind and encouraging. It may seem like just a pleasant happening to you, but it's much much more than that. Much more than I can express with words. For somewhere in those couple hours was a hint to the meaning of life. And those two hours, thinking about them, can still make me happy. Now I�m somewhere else and so is she and the lonely crooked tree is lonely once again. I am lonely too, and so is the girl, for we are both alone. Making then three and all of us lonely.
And I now better understand loneliness. Loneliness is getting a sweet glimpse of understanding followed by an urge to go back for more. That urge is loneliness and it is why I am lonely, she is lonely and the lonely crooked tree is lonely. I want, I desire, I need to go back. The three of us, this girl, the tree and I, must meet again and hopefully get another glimpse, another hint, another tiny clue to why we exist. |
