The Family Tree
By C.R. Harris • Illustrated by Valeri Gorbachev
The tree was their home. Would it be cut down?
In Windy Wood, the Family Tree had stood proud and tall for many years.
The Squirrel family stored nuts beneath its roots. The Woodpecker family pecked insects from its trunk. The Crow family built nests in its topmost branches.
Then one day, Owl came flying by with a warning. "Hoo-hoo!" he hooted, "The woodcutters are coming!"
"What's that you say?" asked Grandmother Squirrel. Then she heard the noise: RRRRRR! "TIMBER!" CRAAAA—SH!
"No, don't tell me!" she chattered. "It's those woodcutters with their saws, taking trees from Windy Wood. Maybe this is the year when they'll cut down our tree!"
Straight down the knobby old tree trunk she scurried. "Stop!" she called to her grandchildren. "Don't store any more nuts down here. If the Family Tree is cut down, they'll be lost."
RRRRRR! "TIMBER!" CRAAAAAA—SH!
The Woodpecker brothers shook their heads. "Listen," they said. "That crash was louder than the last one. The woodcutters are coming closer. What will we do if they drag the Family Tree away? We've always pecked insects out of its trunk. Our parents pecked insects out. So did their parents. And their parents before them."
RRRRR! "TIMBER!" CRAAAAAAA—SH!
"That was the loudest crash of all," cawed Mother Crow, flapping her wings. "All of you are worrying over nothing. There are hundreds more hidey-holes for nuts in Windy Wood. There are thousands more insects to peck out of other tree trunks."
She shook her head sadly. "But what will happen to me if the woodcutters cut down the Family Tree? I'll tell you what will happen. My nest will come crashing down, and my poor babies will come down with it!"
"Maybe the woodcutters won't come any nearer," said Owl. "I've been watching how they choose which trees to cut down. This is what happens. One woodcutter carries a bucket of paint. He paints a red cross on each tree that's to be cut."
"Oh no!" cawed Mother Crow, looking through the trees. "Here he comes now!" Bravely, she dived at the woodcutter's head, calling, "Keep away from my babies! Keep away!"
"He can't understand you," Owl told her sadly. "Woodcutters are humans. And humans can't understand what we birds and animals say."
The woodcutter dipped his brush into the bucket of red paint. All the squirrels and woodpeckers and crows gathered to watch.
They saw him stare at the old tree they all loved so much. Then suddenly he called to the other woodcutters, "Come and look at the names carved into this tree trunk! That's my pa's name, and my ma's. That date underneath is the year they got married."
He shook his head. "We're not cutting down this tree, guys. This is my Family Tree!"
