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Broken limbs.
me now
sweet_ramona wrote in peppermint_mind
When I was about 9 years old I remember following my cousin Jason to the field behind our house (this is now where my current house stands.)he climbed the tree that stood alone in the field. I stayed on the ground gazing up wondering how it was he could climb a tree and I couldn't. After reaching his favorite branch he begged me to join him. This was basically like any other Saturday. After a few minutes of begging he gave up. But this time instead of climbing down and joining me on the ground. He stayed in the tree. With hurt feelings I went to hide under the grapevine tree that grew closer to my house. The tree was my safe haven and I was convinced that no one could hurt me if I was there. The faeries that lived there protected me. So I sat in my safe spot for several minutes, which felt like hours to me. Then with determination I headed back to the lone tree which held my best friend. I stared up at him from below, his feet dangling down as he read his comic book. I didn't know the first thing about climbing a tree. I had watched my brother and his friends do it many times, but I didn't have the courage to try. But there I was finding my way up the tree. Jason looked on in amazement as I reached for the next branch. Then there was a crack and my Donald Duck shirt got caught and ripped as I fell to the hard ground below. The next thing I knew Jason was hovering above me telling me to move my arm. Broken tree limbs were all around me. I leapt to my feet shaking the leaves and dirt from my curls. The only broken limbs were from the tree. My bones were fine and in place. Jason was silent as we walked back home. The scrapes and bruises on my legs and arms didn't hurt. I remember crying over my favorite shirt, but not over my wounds. After getting a lecture from my over protective mother about how I shouldn't try to do what the boys do, I ate my lunch in silence. I then headed back out the door and to the tree. I sat under it for some time. Then I decided it was time to try again. Pulling my curls back into a ponytail I stepped up to the tree and began to climb. When I reached the branch that was Jason's favorite I looked down and began to panic. The getting up, well that was a piece of cake compared to the getting down. I cried with each movement until I finally jumped to the ground. Wiping my tears I let my hair down and walked back home. I never mentioned to anyone that I climbed that tree. Nor did I ever climb a tree again. But I felt close to the tree somehow and every chance I get I sat underneath it and read my books and scribbled my stories. The tree is now in my front yard. It is a firm reminder that I don't need to prove myself to anyone. Just because I can do something, doesn't mean I must do it.
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