A little sapling grew with 3 others in a close knit family group.  One sapling looked so much like her that other trees mixed them up or just called them the twins.  The little tree mostly didn’t mind but as she grew she did sometimes wish others would know her as one sapling rather than half of a set of two.

Time went on and the saplings grew then transplanted themselves into separate forests.  The little tree was on the quiet, shy side and wanted to be brave so she picked a big noisy forest out of state filled with all kinds of different trees.  The little tree wasn’t exactly sure what kind of tree she was but she figured that as she grew she would figure that part out; she was after all still pretty young.

Being on her own for the first time in her life, the little tree was often scared but gamely kept growing, kept trying to do her best for the wellbeing of the forest and eventually started to become noticed by the elder trees.  The little tree grew in self-assurance as well as size.

About that time, she noticed a tall, handsome oak.  She admired his confidence, the way he stood above the other trees in the forest, admired the way he looked as though he wasn’t afraid of anything.  She fell in love and he with her and they married.  For many years their growing family of little saplings kept her busy and she was too tired at the end of each day to think about growing herself.  Finally, the young saplings began transplanting off into their own lives.

One day, her still handsome and now stately oak tree husband suggested they start a business selling decorations for oak leaves.  The little tree, who still wasn’t sure what kind of tree she was though knew she wasn’t an oak tree, wanted to be supportive so she agreed.  They started their business and her husband, being an oak tree himself, knew instinctively what decorations looked best on oak leaves.  The little tree tried her best, working late into the night but decorating oak leaves was just hard for her and she produced about one to his five.  Sometimes her stalwart oak husband said, “Just think like an oak tree!”  She tried, she really tried but always felt like she was trying to do something she wasn’t cut out to do.  She took too long, she crafted each decoration painstakingly but she knew she should be more efficient with her time.

The longing in her spirit started like a whisper of a feeling that there was more to her than what she was doing.  As years passed the longing grew in the quiet little tree until her spirit felt it would suffocate unless she could grow into her kind of tree.

Once in a while she grew a flower.  No other trees in the forest around her were growing flowers so she didn’t do it often but when she did, she felt a deep sense of satisfaction.  Finally she decided that she would pursue this activity purposely, when she was done with her other work.  When she was crafting a flower…pale pink petals breathtakingly fragile…time suspended for her while she worked.  The process of creating filled the very innermost depths of her soul.  She wasn’t sure whether her flowers had any value but she set them out on her branches as a free gift to passersby.  She knew deep down that she was giving to the world the best that she had to give and her soul rejoiced that maybe her gift would bring some beauty or joy to someone who needed it.

One day, a horticulturist came upon this little tree growing in a forest filled with towering oak and pine trees.  He stood looking at the little tree for a long time and the little tree, not used to such scrutiny, shyly looked away.  Finally he asked, “Do you know who you are?”  The little tree said, “I know I am different from an oak though oaks are wonderfully tall and majestic.  I know I’m not a pine tree though they are supple and when they sway in the wind I hear music through their needles.  I know that my spirit overflows with joy when I create one of my flowers.  Even if I am the only one who sees them, I know that I was born to create and that makes me happy.”  The horticulturist smiled and replied, “You are doing what you do best because you are a cherry tree.  Your lovely flowers have lifted the spirits of many a weary traveler through this forest.”  The little tree looked at herself and realized with a start that all of her branches were overflowing with pink flowers, each filled with fragile, beautiful, fragrant petals.  The little cherry tree joyfully realized that deep down in her soul, she knew who she was all along.