The Trees Breathe

My mind is so full of, well, everything I decide that I am going to take a walk. I dash out of the house before anyone can ask to come along. I have to hide behind a bush so that my 11 year old doesn't see me.

I finally sneak away into the woods that surround our home. I following the winding trail barely paying attention to where I am going. As I am walking I am picking up little rocks and flowers I think the kids will like. I placed one more snow white rock in my pocket. I stop and take a deep breath. Hands extended as high as I can get them and I pray.

I pray for peace and I pray for everything to work out in our favor. I stroll through the forest feeling calmer than I have in weeks. I come across a set of steps leading into the trees. I stand there a little wary of what I may have found, but I decide rather quickly to see where the steps go.

I slowly climb the step stairs spiraling around the tree. A tree so big I am not at all sure how the person who built this staircase even completed the project. I continue around and around until I finally come to a door just below the leaves of the tree.

I debate on whether or not to go into the room I have found. I knock on the door but I receive no answer. Finally, curiosity gets the better of me and I slowly reach for the door. I do not see any knob or slide so I push on the door and it budges. I push a little harder and the door swings gently open.

I hold my breath for a moment as I walk into the room. I realize this is a tree house that has had to have been here for quite a while room smells musty, as if it has been closed up for for centuries. There are toys in the room that are least 100 years old. A baby bassinet with lace coverings that are dated as well. As I scan the room my eyes land on an old writing desk. I take a seat at the desk and gently touch the paper still laying there with words smudged with what looks like tears.

The ink in the well is dried up and the letter is the only thing I see on the desk. I open the small drawer to my right and I find more aged paper and another ink well that is still full and still in liquid form. I look to my left and open the small drawer on that side of the desk. In this drawer I find something more interesting.

I slowly take out the packet of letters and drawings that are tied with a ribbon and a lock of hair. Immediately I feel as if I am somewhere I shouldn't be. I decide to take a look and see if I can find a name to where I can locate the family. The letters are old, faded, and brittle. I gently open the first letter in the packet. Afraid that one wrong move will cause the paper to crumble to dust.

By the end of the letter I understand what this place was for. A young couple who were being torn apart. They would meet here if they could do so alone and leave letters in the drawer whenever they couldn't. By the time I read through the last letter I was quietly crying.

The girl, Freya, was to be married to a prince from another kingdom due to her being with child. So many dreams the young couple had planned out. It seems as if they planned to make this tree house their home with their baby. Freya's parents did not approve of the match and arranged the marriage to punish the girl for her mistakes. The letter I found half written was her saying goodbye to her love. The heartbreak in her words was evident. I slide the page and I realize there is a second page. This letter is from the boy, Bjorn, and he writes that he understands what has happened and that he will come for her as soon as he can. He writes that he loves her with all of his heart and his heart will only belong to her and no other. This letter is tear stained as well and I carefully fold the letters and put them back where I found them.

I sit there at the desk for a long time staring out the window with the lace curtains that are torn and colored with age. I begin to think about my family and the problems we are facing. None so big as being married off to a stranger to satisfy a political move. Our problems are small in comparison.

I realize that I have been gone for hours and that I need to go ahead and return home. I carefully pick up the letters and the drawings and wrap them in a aged lace curtain. I gently place them in my bag and take one more look around the room. This places has saved me from my own thoughts.

My day in the tree house has been a blessed one and I will carry this day with me always. I carefully make my way down the steps and when I come to the last step I hear my children singing somewhere close. I call for them and they come running. I hug and kiss them and they squirm away from the affection. Just then I catch the eye of my husband walking towards me. He takes me in his arms and just holds me. I look into his eyes and I know that I am the luckiest woman on the face of the Earth to be apart of my family. No matter how crazy it gets sometimes.