oneword

The Giving Tree—The Sequel.

Last week, my beautiful wife suggested we enjoy the gorgeous Los Angeles weather and go on an adventure. She had read about something called The Giving Tree (inspired by Shel Silverstein’s brilliant book) nearby, so we fueled up and headed out.

Los Angeles never ceases to amaze, with its ghetto-to-mansion-back-to-ghetto-within-a-few-blocks layout, spray tans and hidden gems. This one is five minutes from where I live, smack dab in the middle of Hollywood—I had no idea.

On the way up we found a mother and daughter looking at some directions on a piece of paper.

“Giving Tree?” I said.

“Yeah” replied the mother.

So we joined them in their quest for the magical tree, which we reached after a [grueling] eight-minute hike.

The instructions on the website say:

Give it your thoughts and prayers or anything laying heavy on your heart. Then twirl…

Approaching the base of the tree, the mother mutters something to the effect of “I’m worried about money” then closes her eyes, ceremoniously sending her worries to the benevolent tree.

Then she turns to her little girl, “What are you worried about, sweetie?”

She had to think for quite some time, as she wasn’t a skilled worrier like us adults. After maybe a minute of contemplation, she turned to her mother and said:

“I’m worried about the dinosaurs coming and attacking us.”

The delivery was so innocent and sincere—as only a child can be. It was so cute we could hardly contain ourselves.

It was interesting to note that:
a) she really wasn’t worried about anything at all in the first place. It was only prodding from jaded adults that brought the subject of worry up at all.
b) when she did think about it, it wasn’t “what’s for lunch?” or even “when’s daddy coming back?” [citation needed]—it was EPIC. It was the apocalyptic return of the dinosaurs.

We sent our wishes treeward, twirled and headed back down the hill, in fear of going from zero-to-too-much-nature-in-one-day and spontaneously combusting.

It was a good day. (And I hope that tree can handle her no-dino policy.)