"The Lessons of the Pair Tree"

A young Boy wandered away from his home, and his chores, one clear sunny morning. The warming Day whispered to him and implored him, saying, “Come and explore the distant lands with me, and I promise you an adventure worthy of any punishment your Elders might inflict for such a dalliance.”

Having always dreamed of an adventure, the young Boy heeded that call. He left his valley and the cluster of closely built homes. He passed beyond the fields he knew, and his neighbors’ fields which he’d visited once or twice, and the fields beyond those of which he’d heard but never seen. He continued walking until the fields and tended gardens ended at the outskirts of a great old Forest.

Savoring the adventure before him, and knowing he’d no doubt be confined to his tiny village for quite some time when the Elders eventually caught up with him, the Boy decided to make the most of his rare freedom, and ventured deep into the forest.

He saw there trees the likes of which he’d never seen before. These were not just tall trees which he’d seen plenty of times, and wide trees which he’d raced around with other children, and old trees that he would occasionally nap against on a hot summer afternoon. These were ancient trees, and massive trees, and some were downright bizarre trees

Some had bark that looked like the bottoms of the sandals worn by the Visitors from far-away lands when they came to haggle and argue over trade with the village’s Elders. Some had branches that resembled the deep-water snakes that were big enough to carry off small animals that were unlucky and unwary enough to be caught while drinking from the river. And still other trees had leaves that resembled nothing the Boy had ever seen, not in his daydreaming about the clouds overhead, nor in his sleeping dreams of the fields of flowers that he’d glimpsed once, spreading across the Spring-touched hills on the far side of their valley.

He wandered from copse to thicket, from thicket to grove, and from grove to old-growth hinterland where the only way through the densely-packed trees was by following the narrow game trails that wound around the thick roots that flowed like hardened lavas of moss-covered wood.

He came to a glade where one particular tree stood. It seemed alive in an unnatural way, so the Boy hid behind the low bough of a neighboring tree to silently observe.

The strange tree had branches that seemed to undulate and dance in the still air, not responding to any breeze, yet weaving and swaying in a graceful dance. The Boy noticed that no matter how much the branches moved, there was always some odd form of symmetry to the layout of the canopy: when one set of branches dipped low to the ground, the branches on the opposite side would reach skyward as high as they could. When one cluster curled up like a massive green-fletched fist, the other side splayed out like a million verdant feathers.

The Boy was so entranced by the tree’s movements that he was fairly surprised when a small Ginkgo bird landed on the trunk nearby, spreading out its yellow tail feathers in the fan-shape that earned it its name. The Ginkgo Bird spoke to the Boy in the same enchanting whisper that had inspired the Boy on his journey in the first place.

“What do you see?” the Ginkgo asked.

The Boy responded, “I see a dancing tree. A tree that moves with no wind, that balances each move with an equal but opposite move from elsewhere in the tree.”

The Ginkgo tweeted a quick cheerful tune, then replied in the Boy’s language, “That is a Pair Tree.”

The Boy marveled. “So that’s what a Pear Tree looks like! I have heard the Visitors talk of such trees, with greenish-gold fruit so delicious that even kings and queens desire its fruit for their tables. But alas! I do not see any fruit in this tree at all! I would have liked so much to sample one of them.”

The Ginkgo Bird twittered a brief laughing refrain. “No, not a Pear Tree. A Pair Tree.”

The Boy screwed up his eyes. “I don’t know what you mean. Are there two kinds of Pear Trees?”

The Ginkgo chirped happily. “Indeed, there are many kinds of Pear Trees. But this one here is a one-of-a-kind, a rarity not found anywhere else from the Great Water in the East to the unscalable Mountain Wall in the West.”

The Ginkgo hopped down the tree trunk a few feet until he was almost on the Boy’s shoulder.

“This tree contains a unique gift, bestowed upon it by the Rain Gods above, when they met with and married the Earth Gods below. Each of them desired a way to share their joy with the greater world around them, so together, they created the Pair Tree.”

The Ginkgo hopped an inch or two closer, so eager was it to share its knowledge with the Boy. “From the beginning of the Age, this tree has rewarded those who have managed to reach this spot, with a singular gift: whatever that person most needed in their life, the Pair Tree would give it to them.”

The Boy’s eyes grew wide. “You mean, like a fabulous castle? Or all the riches in the world? Or maybe a beautiful maiden to wed and live with forever?”

The laughter that the Ginkgo emitted through a long series of chirrups and peeps seemed endless. “No, nothing like that,” the bird replied. “You see, the Pair Tree is able to sense what an individual has most of in abundance, and seeks to balance that with what is needed to offset that abundance.”

Just then, a young Prince, resplendent in fine silks and golden jewelry, riding the finest palfrey the Boy had ever seen, entered the glade beside the Tree. He leaped down from the fine leather saddle and approached the Tree.

“Hush now!” the Ginkgo whispered. “Observe and learn.”

The Prince came up beside the tree, slapped it twice upon its massive main trunk, and barked, “Ho, great old Tree! I desire more lands to rule when my Father dies, more subjects to come at my beck and call, and more women that I may add to my harem!”

The Pair Tree rustled as if a strong breeze had taken hold. It dipped one branch low to the ground, just low enough to touch the Prince’s tousled hair, and sent its other limbs wildly into the sky.

Suddenly, the Prince cried out, tore at his clothes, and cast them upon the ground. He pulled the fine jewelry from around his neck and tossed them into the thick grass nearby, and threw his expensive rings after them. He ran half-naked through the woods, crying out for peace from the voices that were invading his brain, and was soon lost in the distance.

“Hmmm…” the Boy pondered. “I do not see that the Prince was aided in any way by the Tree. In fact, he seems much the worse from visiting it.”

“Hush!” the Ginkgo whispered again. “Here comes another supplicant. Watch what transpires.”

This person was not so finely garbed, though he did wear a fine suit of rich linens, and he did ride a sturdy horse that would be the envy of any Village elder. He climbed down and approached the Tree, knocking on its trunk as he did. “Hello, great Bestower of Gifts. I request a better life for myself and my family, if it pleases you. Can you help me out, as I am near the end of my days, and I would like to leave something of value behind for my widow, when I am gone, and for my children, so their life is not as hard as mine has been?”

The Tree dipped its branches low again, and brushed the tall grass away from the discarded gems and jewels that the Prince had cast aside. Excited at the prospect of such riches, the Merchant, for that is what he was, bent down to gather up the riches.

Immediately, the Prince’s palfrey turned and kicked the Merchant full in the ass, sending him sprawling. The Merchant got up and hurried off back the way he came. He scrambled over tree root and boulder, as his own horse chose to stay behind with the Prince’s palfrey.

The Boy scoffed. “Now there again! That fellow leaves with less than he had when he arrived, unless you consider a kick in the pants some sort of benefit.”

“Hush, child!” the Ginkgo admonished. “One more visitor approaches.”

This time, an Old Man approached. He had neither palfrey nor steed, but leaned on a staff as gnarled as his own face. He stopped beside the tree and kneeled, his face resting against the massive trunk.

“Thank you for this shade, Great Old One. I wish I had more to give you but this meager offering, but this is all I could carry.” Saying that, the Old Man hefted down a water bag from across his back, and poured out its contents around the trunk and the roots nearest the tree.

When the water bag was empty, the Old Man noticed something on the ground. It was neither gem nor jewel, but looked to be about the size and color of a small stone or a large pebble.

The Old Man struggled to his feet and placed the object deep within the folds of his cloak. He bowed low to the Pair Tree and said, “Thank you for your bounty, Great Old One. I shall treasure this gift, and share it with those of my people who are wise enough to benefit from it.” He picked up his gnarled staff, and slowly headed back the way he’d come.

After he had left and the glade was empty save for the Pair Tree and a soft breeze, the Boy rose from his observation spot and shook his head. “I am confused. Three people arrived, two of them lost items here rather than gained anything, and the third only took with him some small token of no value.”

The Ginkgo flitted about the Boy’s head, his energetic tweeting and twittering filling the air. “You look, but you do not see.”

The bird flew a little ways towards the palfrey, now eating grass beside the Merchant’s horse. “The Prince had so much, yet desired even more. Unchecked, he would have grown to be a greedy man, and therefore, a cruel ruler. The Pair Tree gave him a conscience, which immediately caused him to cast aside his riches. He will now return to his kingdom and donate much to the poor and needy, and become a better ruler.”

The Ginkgo swooped low over the Merchant’s horse. “The Merchant failed to value the riches he already had: a loving wife, strong healthy children, and a supportive career. Walking back, he will come to realize these are life’s true riches, and he will get some good exercise as well, which will lengthen his life.”

“And what of the Old Man?” the Boy asked. “What did he gain?”

The Ginkgo trilled his highest notes. “The Old Man was the only one who asked for nothing, but instead, brought a tribute: his bag full of nourishing water. He in turn received the greatest prize: a seed from the Pair Tree, from which he can grow a new tree for his own village.”

The Boy pondered the Ginkgo’s words. “And myself? Did I gain anything from my visit here?”

The Ginkgo landed on the Boy’s shoulder and replied, “Did you?”