How that tree had, saved you, from having to, stare at those boys, in the boys’ restrooms, and how it’d, taught you, that there’s, always, a brand new angle you can, examine things with, translated…
I’d, returned to my alma mater for my high school reunion, a group of us, aging ladies started, yapping endlessly, and it’s like, we’re all, taken back to those days. It’d been thirty years since we graduated, our school added a few more buildings, with the cement-constructed giants, shoulder to shoulder, and no more trees of green, nor the bluer than blue skies. Our feet scattered, in from under the giant’s legs, to find back all those, lost, memories.
“Wow, this tree is still here!”, by the new giant’s foot, he was, right there, where he is, with that, flare, I’d, exclaimed! But, nobody else said another word, and, I’d understood: it’s no big deal, for a tree to live on, for thirty years, besides, he may have already been, planted down, during the Japanese ruling eras; besides, he wasn’t, a tall tree, no shades, to hover over us while we cussed our teachers out, or how that space allowing us to skip P.E., to hang out with. But, he had, been a part of my memories during those three years, even longer in memories, my young, naïve, innocent, days……………
Back then, the first-year female students must pass by the boy’s bathrooms, with the brown-colored wooden frames of the windows, this odd designed, allowed the boys to face outside as they go, and, it’d, made those who’d passed by the boys’ bathroom feel like they’re given this, headshot of lineup to look at. I’d felt awkward about it, so, I’d, always shifted my head the opposite direction, to that oddly shaped, leaves like orchid tree, I’d, ignored all those boys.
One day, as the picture frame didn’t have any heads in it, I’d, stopped and looked at that lifesaver tree, and I saw, that his name was coral bean tree. And, ever since, as I bumped into another one, it was like, seeing an old friend, I was, always, very excited, like it was, the only tree I’d, ever known, and it actually, was, the one, and only tree I’d, ever known.
illustration from UDN.com
And slowly, no matter if the frames from the boys’ bathroom is vacant or not, I’d grown, accustomed to looking opposite to that tree. And slowly, whether or not someone was there to save me, I’d, gotten used to looking at the more positive things in my life. And, it didn’t matter if I had a smooth ride to life, I’d come to understand, that I have, NO control over the wheels, but I can, control how far I look, or what I choose, to look at and see.
I’m grateful that my alma mater high school took good care of the tree, like it’d, protected the tree’s, alternative, function too. I’d used my eyes as the camera lenses, my feelings as the films, and, shutters clicked, printed that old lifesaver, into the frames of my coming of age.
I don’t know how long CAN a tree live, but no matter, if the hard concrete eventually, takes over that patch, inside my own, picture frames, the coral bean tree is always there, calling out to me, “Don’t get distracted by what’s right in front of you, there’s, an alternative, option!”
And so, this, is how that tree had, helped you through your awkward teenage years, it’d, offered you an alternative place to look, instead of staring at those boys’ heads inside the boys’ bathroom, and, as the tree eventually gets cut down, it will always be there, inside, the picture frames, of your mind, and you will carry what you’d learned from it: there’s, always an alternative angle to look at things, for the rest of your life, and that will, serve you, well.