The Carving Tree

…”you know, I was here the day they planted this tree. It was 1965.  I was five years old and my momma brought me here to this piece of ground.  This park wasn’t here at the time, it was just a grassy area here by the bayou.  The family of Benny Boudreaux planted this oak tree in his memory.  Mr. Benny, that’s what everyone called him;  he was the kindest man I ever knew.  He and his wife, Ms. Celia lived right over there in that small house on the hill.  Of course, the house didn’t look like that back then. Oh no, Ms. Celia painted it white with blue shutters and she planted the most amazing flowers around it. Her garden was the envy of all the people here in Bay Bayou.  That was what Ms. Celia did. The people here paid her to come to their homes and design their gardens.  You see, Mr. Benny, he couldn’t work much on account of the fact that he had come back, well, different from the war in Vietnam.  His leg was damaged real bad and he got  scared when there were loud noises.  You wouldn't know it to talk to him, though.  Mr. Benny, he would sit right here in the wheelchair the town got for him and he would fish and whittle.  He whittled beautiful things, and he taught his little boy Reggie to do the same.  I went to school with Reggie, and after school we used to do our homework right by this tree.  Mr. Benny would always have an apple or somethin’ for us to eat for a snack, and he would help us with our homework.  When homework was finished, I got to fish and Reggie whittled.  Reggie got so good at it that people used to buy things from him.  He would give his money to his daddy, and Mr. Benny would give us some of it to buy bubblegum at the store.  I loved that bubblegum!”

“So momma?  How come Reggie gave his daddy the money he earned?”

“Let’s go sit under the tree, baby girl, I’m gettin’ hot.  It’s so much cooler here in the shade. Take a seat.  Now, where were we?’

“You were gonna tell me why Reggie gave his daddy money.”

“Oh, yes, yes I was.  You see, baby girl, back then families worked together.  Reggie knew his daddy couldn’t find a regular job, so he helped the family, or at least he thought he was.”

“What do you mean, momma?”

“Well, it turns out that Mr. Benny saved that money in jars for Reggie all those years so that when Reggie graduated high school, Mr. Benny gave him all those jars filled with money.  Reggie took the money, learned to be a carpenter, and came home to Bay Bayou and opened a carpentry shop where he and Mr. Benny worked side by side.  They made all these  benches that sit here under this tree and the others here in the park.  Pretty soon, people began carving their names in the benches.  Each time I come home to visit, I love to see all the new names that were carved right here in these benches under Mr. Benny’s tree.  Look at all these names. There are eight benches full!”

“I wonder if every time a bench gets full of names, Mr. Reggie builds another one.”

“I bet he does, baby girl.  Wow, I see Mr. Reggie walking toward us right now.  Let’s ask him.”

“Hello, ladies, lovely day for a sit in the park, don’t you think?  Oh my! Sara, Sara Miller, is that you?  Come give me a hug, girl. It is wonderful to see you, just wonderful. And who is this precious baby girl?

“This, Reggie, is my daughter, CeeCee, named after your momma.”

“I was named after Ms. Celia?”

“Yes, baby girl, ‘cause when my own momma died when I was real young, Ms. Celia told me not to worry, she would be like my momma.  I brought you here today so that you could learn about both of them and feel their spirit,s right here under this tree. Legend has it that you can hear Ms. Celia’s voice sometimes when the wind blows.”

“Mr. Reggie? How come y'all started building these benches? I asked my momma if you built a new one each time they got full of names.”

“Well, CeeCee, me and my daddy started building these benches and placed them on this land which the city decided later to make into a park.  The idea for the benches came from my momma shortly after your grandma died.  These benches were built as a symbol of our town and how we take care of each other.  My momma called them ‘ carving benches’. She didn’t want people to ruin trees by carving on them so she had daddy and me built benches instead.  After daddy died and momma planted his tree, we made sure to put benches around it so people would sit and enjoy the shade. That is what my Daddy would have wanted, so momma planted the strongest tree. An old oak. She knew this tree would be here for a very long time.  Now, that smaller oak tree over yonder is the one your momma and I planted when Ms. Celia died.  All the people at the funeral took turns carving their initials in those benches over there by that tree.”

“Wow, Mr. Reggie, that is one of the best stories I have ever heard.”

“Someday, CeeCee, after your momma and me are gone, I hope you will come back and tell this story to your children.  That’s how our loved ones stay alive in our hearts.”

“Oh I will, Mr. Reggie, I promise.  Cross my heart. I just have one question for you.”

“And what might that be, princess?”

“Can I carve my name on a bench so I can show my children someday? Would that be okay, momma?  Momma? Why are you crying?”

“I think, CeeCee, your momma is crying tears of joy.  Let me reach right here in my pocket.  Look here! I have my best carving knife.”