I remember the day I sprouted. Bright sun hitting my sparse limbs, I had no leaves and wouldn’t for a few more months. I watched as people moved past me and the seasons changed. I grew a more as each season passed. I watched as people went from walking to riding horses to building large building. I watched as they cut my brothers and sisters down to build things. They eventually began creating contraptions called car. Loud metal things, that left a nasty taste in my leaves. The years have gone by and the building have changed from wood to metal. Not many of my brothers or sisters can be seen from where I stand tall.

When I was young I was adopted by a young woman named Emma. She insisted her father and brothers not cut me down. I was hers. She sat underneath my leaves and read, did homework, shared her first kiss with a young man named Issac. She eventually married Issac under my leaves and began building a family in the house she grew up in. For generations her family has lived here, they have sat underneath my my leaves and read in the shade. Shared kisses with their loves, Mari=ried under me. I have watched her family grow, I have seen it die down to one person and flourish again. Now, nearly two hundreed years later the one room house that Emma’s father James built is a sprawling mansion and I sit in it =s front year. A pond sits in front of me and Emma’s great grandchild sits in my shade planning her wedding to a sweet young man named Frankie. I wouldn’t change a thing. My two hundredth birthday is tomorrow. No one knows that but I shall enjoy the bridal shower young Emma’s mother is throwing for her. I shall pretend that it is my birthday party. I hope I live another hundred years to watch my darling family grow.