Storytime: Wishing out loud on a magic tree
In my backyard, there is a garden rock my husband claimed is made of lava.
Years of dirt wiggled into the depths of that boulder and, one day, a tiny seedling took hold. I made my husband promise not to spray it, pull it, crush it, or even make fun of it.
There was something magical about that little tree.
I never expected it to keep growing, but I wanted to give it every chance I could. So I stuffed dirt around its root and, over time, that sprout grew stronger, climbing out of that boulder like it had lived there forever.
That’s where kindergartner Cora first found it when she came for a visit. She asked a hundred questions about that tree growing out of that rock. Mostly, how did a tree grow out of a rock?
“Magic,” I told her.
There is no other answer, and, according to my little friend, you have to believe that magic is real or it will not work.
Cora Davenport is a believer.
When you have a perfectly good magic tree in your backyard, you have to do something with it. So Cora decided that we would each make a wish. We would rub the magical leaves on that spunky tree and wish for one thing that would make us happy.
The tree would take care of the rest.
We stood in front of that seedling and looked at each other, both of us pondering our wishes. I thought I might use mine for world peace or a winning ticket in the next big lottery, but those wishes seemed all wrong. Cora looked up at me with curious eyes and waited. When I told her I didn’t know what to wish for, she had a quick suggestion.
“A kitten,” she said, like that would be a worthy wish.
I wasn’t taking that chance.
Finally, we both the rubbed the leaves of that little tree three times, then made our wishes. When we were done, and our silent wishes were swirling around inside our heads with no place to go, we continued our walk through the yard until Cora stopped, put her hands on her hips, and demanded to know.
“What did you wish for?”
“If I tell you, it won’t come true,” I said, thinking that was the way it was with wishes.
“Well,” said Cora, like she was one to know, “if you really believe and you really, really want your wish to come true, it will. Saying it out loud doesn’t make it go away — it just makes it real.”
Cora had no problem telling me her wish. She wished for something that was certainly wish-worthy. Cora wished that she would get cake.
“Cake? Why cake?” I asked, trying to figure that one out.
“Because,” Cora said, clapping her hands, “cake makes everyone happy.”
That night when Cora got home, her mother received a phone call from the neighbor inviting the family over to celebrate their daughter’s birthday.
A birthday party with cake.
I thought about Cora and our long-ago wishes when I found the magical lava rock tree busted and broken by the wind. When Cora’s wish came true, I was certain that someday mine would come true too.
In all the time since, I held on to that wish and have not let it go, but now that the magic tree is gone, does that mean my unanswered wish is gone with it? That’s when I remembered what wide-eyed Cora told me that day when I was reluctant to say my wish out loud, fearing the magic would be broken.
“Once a wish is made, it never goes away, and if you believe that it will come true, it will. That’s not magic, that’s just you.”
My wish was, someday, to dance at Cora’s wedding.
I am sure there will be cake.
You can reach Lorry at lorrysstorys@gmail.com.
This article originally appeared on Columbia Daily Tribune: Storytime: Wishing out loud on a magic tree
