The months passed by, and the sense of danger slowly diminished. Now the forest world seemed back to normal.
Then, early one morning, as the first snowflakes of winter were just starting to touch the ground, the family trees were awakened by the sound of bulldozers entering the forest.
The peaceful calm of the past few months quickly faded away. The entire forest was frightened. The animals hurried to seek shelter. But the family trees had nowhere to go. With nowhere to hide, the family trees were stranded. Grandfather Sycamore knew this was the end.
Still Grandfather Birch remained defiant. “I am not willing to be a coffee table inside of the home of some human. Are we just going to stand here and allow them to up root our families?” exclaimed Grandfather Birch.
As the loggers moved into position the family trees were convinced that this would be their last day together, but that didn’t turn out to be quite true because all of the sudden the family trees began to show up simultaneously at the same lumber mill, with the exception of Granddaughter Sycamore. The family trees were convinced that however long they would spend at the lumber mill would be the last time they would ever be together again.
As their final day at the mill drew near the workers in the mill hustled to manufacture the lumber as though they were on a deadline for final shipment. As they whittled Grandfather Birch down into small planks, he shouted out to the other family trees. “We will not be denied, my friends. Long live the family tree, eternally, forever, forevermore!” Grandfather birch defiantly shouted. And in chorus the family trees echoed those same words to Grandfather Birch.
Even though they truly believed that that final day in the lumber mill would be the last time they would ever be together again, weeks later the Robinson family moved into their new house. The movers carefully took a grandfather clock from out of the moving van. As they carried it toward the house, it quickly became obvious that this clock was Grandfather Sycamore, in his new form.
And then more and more of the family trees were found as time went by. Grandmother Birch was part of the fence at a neighborhood house. The remaining members of Grandfather Birch’s family were on display at different locations throughout the neighborhood. Except for Granddaughter Sycamore, all of the family trees had turned up.
Then one afternoon the Robinson’s daughter returned home from school. She tripped over the baseball bat that her brother had left in the front yard. Her books went flying everywhere.
One of the books landed on top of the baseball bat.
That book was “The Family Tree.” Grandson Sycamore was shocked to discover that his sister had become a copy of the book.
Now all of the family trees were back together again. Grandmother Sycamore had become part of the wood siding on the Robinson’s house. The birds from the forest had found her and they would land on the roof of the house and visit her quite often. The birds had saved some of the seeds from Grandmother Sycamore’s branches and they planted them at her new house.
The new forest is growing quite nicely,” the birds told her. “You’ve got another generation of sycamores and birches and spruces and many, many others sharing with us, just as you used to do.”
The seeds began to grow as the years passed. And as they grew, a new family tree took root and leaf.
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