The Tree and Flowers
Kira
When I was a child, there was an old tree in the yard of my house. In the spring and summer, it was covered by heavy leaves; in the fall, it was decorated by beautiful fruits. When winter fell, the tree was standing lonely in the strong cold wind. One day, I said to my father when I looked out of the window and saw the tree:“ The scenery changes each season just like life, dose not it?” Father looked at the tree silently. “No, it does not.” He whispered those words slightly as if he were not talking to me. I was confused. How could the scenery be the same? Father was still in deep meditation, so when I asked again, he only added four words: “The circle of life.” I could not understand what he was telling me. As time passes by, now I cannot remember my question clearly, but the four words are still deep in my heart.
I have seen a great many differences of life around my house. For instance, when spring came down, flowers were open with delight, and even every little cell of the flowers was leaping with flowery life and utterance. Soon began the change, the endless and rapid change. The flowers died in the fields and the perfume of nature passed away with spring. “I can never feel this beauty this year,” I sighed in front of the field of flowers, “ Maybe it is true that one can never step into the same river.”
Year by year, I did not even realize the flowing of time. My family moved to a city, so I left my hometown. I still remember my old house where I lived in as a child. I went back to have a look at it this spring. There was no house, no yard. All that had been left was loneliness and terrible silence. “Change is the reality, and permanence is artificial and a condition of imprisonment.” I remembered an old saying of a book and kept silent. Suddenly, I heard the sound of birds. I looked up. To my surprise, the old tree full of little green leaves stood still in the place. I immediately recalled the field of flowers with a compulsive emotion. “Does it still exist now? ” I rushed to the field, and then I stood in a flourishing beauty, greeted by a familiar ocean of flowers. The flowers were giggling and made some sort of crystalline sound of delight. The ocean surged in some invisible rhythm of concerted, delightful movement. I could not believe my eyes at that moment.
I suddenly understood something important. Every thing in this world is moving—seasons, surroundings and even ourselves; however, there is something, that will never change— hope and beauty. That is the meaning of the words
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