(no subject)
I found this in one of my sister's magazines.
Trees Are We
Marilyn Krysi
My mother says I have to eat breakfast every morning. I take my cereal and fruit outside to my special tree. It is like sitting on my mother's lap.
I am the only one who knows the tree's name. Her name is Bertha. Green apples dangle from her branches like little green earrings.
When my sister comes home from school, she is too busy to play with me. "I have to memorize a speech fro mthe Constitution," she says.
"We the people," she starts. She practices and practices. She acts like she is the Queen of Speech.
I go outside and climb into Bertha's lap. Bertha does not blabber like my sister. Bertha hums. A breeze rustles her leaves. Once, a red cardinal sang a red song.
When I go back in, my sister is still blabbering. "We the People," she says over and over.
"We the giraffes," I say. "We the whales."
"Giraffes and whales are not people," my sister says.
"But giraffes and whales are important, too," our mother says.
"We the trees," I say. "Trees are we."
"That is crazy!" my sister says.
My mother shakes her head. "Not crazy," she says. "Without plants and trees, there would be no giraffes or whales or people."
"We the apples," I say, "Apples are we.
My sister is really fed up with me.
"That is not in the Constitution," she says.
"Maybe is should be in the Constitution," I say.
"Your little sister is right," my mother says. "It is not one thing that makes the world. It is everything."
My sister rolls her eyes. "I will ask my teacher, Mr. Brown."
The next day, my sister comes home acting like she is the Queen of Everything. "My teacher says the Constitution is only for people. No trees allowed." She makes a face at me.
"Perhaps I will visit your class tomorrow," my mother says.
The next morning, my mother and I go with my sister to school.
The teacher waves and comes to meet us. He is the shiniest person I have ever seen. He looks like his mother polished him before she sent him off to school.
He is wearing a shirt with green bananas on it. The bananas are the same green as Bertha's apples.
"I am Mr. Brown," he says. "Welcome to our school."
"I am happy to hear my daughter is learning about 'We the People,'" my mother says. "But what about other living things?"
"I am glad you asked," says Mr. Brown. "We are about to start a unit on the biospehere. Would you like to stay?"
"We would love to," my mother says.
"The biosphere is everything together," says Mr. Brown. "Everything needs everything else. Can anyone think of an example?"
"We need trees," I say.
"Right you are!" says Mr. Brown. "And why?"
"Because apple trees make apples and banana trees make bananas," I say, "And people and giraffes need apples and bananas."
"That is right!" says Mr. Brown.
He looks very pleased. So does my mother. My sister looks surprised.
"So trees are we," I say. "Because we need trees."
"Right again!" says Mr. Brown.
"And trees need rain," I say. "So rain is we."
"Very good," the teacher says.
Even my sister looks pleased.
"Grass and petunias are we," a boy says.
"Tigers and worms," says a girl with braids.
"A breeze is we," says a red-headed boy.
"The sea is we," says my mother.
"Bees are we," my sister says.
"Bees, trees, the sea, a breeze!" I say.
"Right, right, right!" says Mr. Brown. "You are all right. And now it is time for recess."
My mother and I say goodbye to Mr. Brown. When we get home, my mother pours a cup of tea. She gives me a glass of juice, and I go outside to sit in Bertha's lap.
There, on one of Bertha's branches, sits the red cardinal. I listen to the cardinal sing it's red song.
"Bertha," I say, "you and me and the red cardinal are we."
And Mom's currently at the bar again. If I get fucking beat again tonight because she can't contain her desire for alcohol, I'm going to go fucking balistic.
Trees Are We
Marilyn Krysi
My mother says I have to eat breakfast every morning. I take my cereal and fruit outside to my special tree. It is like sitting on my mother's lap.
I am the only one who knows the tree's name. Her name is Bertha. Green apples dangle from her branches like little green earrings.
When my sister comes home from school, she is too busy to play with me. "I have to memorize a speech fro mthe Constitution," she says.
"We the people," she starts. She practices and practices. She acts like she is the Queen of Speech.
I go outside and climb into Bertha's lap. Bertha does not blabber like my sister. Bertha hums. A breeze rustles her leaves. Once, a red cardinal sang a red song.
When I go back in, my sister is still blabbering. "We the People," she says over and over.
"We the giraffes," I say. "We the whales."
"Giraffes and whales are not people," my sister says.
"But giraffes and whales are important, too," our mother says.
"We the trees," I say. "Trees are we."
"That is crazy!" my sister says.
My mother shakes her head. "Not crazy," she says. "Without plants and trees, there would be no giraffes or whales or people."
"We the apples," I say, "Apples are we.
My sister is really fed up with me.
"That is not in the Constitution," she says.
"Maybe is should be in the Constitution," I say.
"Your little sister is right," my mother says. "It is not one thing that makes the world. It is everything."
My sister rolls her eyes. "I will ask my teacher, Mr. Brown."
The next day, my sister comes home acting like she is the Queen of Everything. "My teacher says the Constitution is only for people. No trees allowed." She makes a face at me.
"Perhaps I will visit your class tomorrow," my mother says.
The next morning, my mother and I go with my sister to school.
The teacher waves and comes to meet us. He is the shiniest person I have ever seen. He looks like his mother polished him before she sent him off to school.
He is wearing a shirt with green bananas on it. The bananas are the same green as Bertha's apples.
"I am Mr. Brown," he says. "Welcome to our school."
"I am happy to hear my daughter is learning about 'We the People,'" my mother says. "But what about other living things?"
"I am glad you asked," says Mr. Brown. "We are about to start a unit on the biospehere. Would you like to stay?"
"We would love to," my mother says.
"The biosphere is everything together," says Mr. Brown. "Everything needs everything else. Can anyone think of an example?"
"We need trees," I say.
"Right you are!" says Mr. Brown. "And why?"
"Because apple trees make apples and banana trees make bananas," I say, "And people and giraffes need apples and bananas."
"That is right!" says Mr. Brown.
He looks very pleased. So does my mother. My sister looks surprised.
"So trees are we," I say. "Because we need trees."
"Right again!" says Mr. Brown.
"And trees need rain," I say. "So rain is we."
"Very good," the teacher says.
Even my sister looks pleased.
"Grass and petunias are we," a boy says.
"Tigers and worms," says a girl with braids.
"A breeze is we," says a red-headed boy.
"The sea is we," says my mother.
"Bees are we," my sister says.
"Bees, trees, the sea, a breeze!" I say.
"Right, right, right!" says Mr. Brown. "You are all right. And now it is time for recess."
My mother and I say goodbye to Mr. Brown. When we get home, my mother pours a cup of tea. She gives me a glass of juice, and I go outside to sit in Bertha's lap.
There, on one of Bertha's branches, sits the red cardinal. I listen to the cardinal sing it's red song.
"Bertha," I say, "you and me and the red cardinal are we."
And Mom's currently at the bar again. If I get fucking beat again tonight because she can't contain her desire for alcohol, I'm going to go fucking balistic.