Infinity Health & Wellness Magazine December / January 2017 | Page 26

The Giving Tree
by Heather Preston
Leaning on the deck rail of my little Sausalito house
one spring day, straining to see through the upper
leaves of a large tree obscuring the hill beyond, I
wished idly that if only the top two feet of the tree
were gone my view could be restored. Within the
next few days, leaves began dropping from the top of
the tree, but only from the top two feet. A few days
later the last leaf dropped from that area of the tree.
I could once again see the hill across the valley.
It became apparent, a couple of weeks later that no
more leaves were going to follow, that the remaining
lower leaves were intact, healthy, and secured. Then
it dawned on me that something utterly remarkable
had happened. I caught my breath in confusion and
amazement. Was this possible? There, indeed, was
the view I had wished for. It was as if the tree had
“understood” and granted my wish. A thrilling idea.
I was grateful. But as time passed, I became uneasy, for
even though I couldn’t have expected what happened,
the tree had granted my wish at its own expense. I
read once that a tree’s topmost leaves are unique in
that they protect it in some way, processing the sun’s
energy differently from its other leaves.
After telling a few friends this story and showing them
the empty top branches, some were silent and some
squinty-eyed. Cold observation proved the tree to be
bare on top. “Right, it’s bare on top,” they would say
and point out possible reasons, “Not enough water?”
Pretty soon the novelty turned into concern for the
tree’s well-being.
I wanted those leaves back more than I wanted the
view. I went out and pleaded with the tree to grow the
leaves back, and said that I was really sorry to have
caused it any harm.
Slowly, to my great relief, buds started reappearing on
the empty branches, tiny ones at first, only a scattering
of green here and there. Then more and more popped
open and stretched into leaves. Within a short time
the treetop was filled with beautiful new green leaves.
I was weak with gratitude. Friends now marveled to

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see the perfectly normal tree. The rationalizers still
rationalized. But I knew what I knew.
I had a friend back then named Francis Rath who,
prior to becoming a bookstore owner, had been a
rather imposing law enforcement officer. He found
that in the course of his work, when he put his
hands on people in trauma, they would instantly stop
convulsing and breathe normally; he was a true healer
and a sensitive. Francis came to a party at my house
more than a year after the leaf-dropping incident. He
told me that when he stepped outside for a breather
during the evening he had leaned against this tree
and felt it to be remarkable. Its emanations were
compassionate and giving. Did I know that this was
one special tree? I told him the story that I have just
told you.
“Compassion is no attribute. It is the Law of Laws…a
shoreless universal essence, the light of everlasting right
and fitness of all things, the love of love eternal.” From
Buddhism: The Seven Portals.
About the Author: Heather
Preston, named one of
the outstanding artists of
Chicago, is the author and
artist of Tree Spirits: Tales
and Encounters (Sweet
Olive Press); winner Silver
Finalist Medal 2010 INDIE
Book Awards. She is a regular
contributor to A.R.E.’s member magazine, Venture
Inward available at EdgarCayce.org. Her website is
HeatherPrestonArt.com.

Dec / Jan 2017