It was always the sound of maple leaves (a short short kids story)

kate lamberg~circa early 60's

It was always the sound of maple leaves singing in the southwest corner of her yard that made Usha smile with wonder. As a small child, she'd look out her western window at the changing light in spring at dusk. She'd wonder what her friends were doing at the moment. Deeper still, she'd feel the soft stirrings of tree angels beckoning.

Then, without a moment to spare, she would put on her sneakers and a cardigan sweater, not caring if the colors matched, and slip out the heavy oak door painted black, and the two paned screen door. She would step down upon the flagstone porch, be gently carried into the front yard. As if her tree angels had choreographed this small dance of freedom.

First, she'd gaze at the soft flowering of the pink dogwood. Then proceed to the enormous maple tree, sprouting forth its first soft baby green blossoms, that would transform into leaves. Usha knew that the leaves were part of a process called photosynthesis and could do their magical transformation while she was asleep. She would often say to her friends. "Can you imagine that...I go to sleep one night in late April, and the leaves just burst open as I sleep!! I wish I could stay up all night and watch as they come to life."

In summer the leaves became huge- larger than Usha's hands. Climbing the tree at dusk was her time to be alone, yet not be alone. As she hugged the center trunk, her tree angels came around to sing little songs to cheer her.
She knew a friend had wanted her to join her for roller skating and milk shakes at the local roller rink, but Usha was not interested. The silence of early evening was all that she wanted. The noise of metal on wooden floors and gales of laughter from little girls was the very thing she needed to turn her back from.

By late fall, the maple leaves turned to lovely shades of russet, burgundy, red, orange, and yellow. The colors of Usha's bedroom. She picked out the carpet shade- a soft pumpkin color to match her mood. She loved this time of the year the best. Not too cold or too hot. The flowers and leaves were still holding onto the trees, and she had a strong feeling of her tree angels drawing near.

By winter, the bare tree stood naked in the yard. Its leaves gone soon after thankgiving. Usha would have to love her maple tree for another four months without any leaves. Being too cold to climb the tree in January, she'd gaze at it's new bony figure from the warmth of her golden bedroom. Usa learned to appreciate the dark lines of the maple tree. How it appeared to be, at times, about to stretch and dance a ballet...created just for her.

Usha knew she would have to wait until the end of April to see her beloved maple tree burst once again into the green song of spring. She got busy with her piano practicing, ballet lessons, and baked her oatmeal cookies- crunchy on the outside, and chewy inside.

Oh-she never missed an evening of gazing with great love at her maple tree..Whatever the season. There was no reason, except maybe this:
The comfort of its being there without demanding anything at all from her.
Usha sighed a big sigh on April fools day. "Less than two weeks till my birthday, and then only another two weeks until my beloved tree sprouts her kelly green leaves. She'll take me deep into her branches, and I shall never feel alone. Never again."

Finis