[Kris St. James]

Synopsis: We all have a purpose, however ignoble.


I will now tell you the story of my life.



Death



All around me was dark, cold and damp. Everything was silent and black and I was alone. I was aware, but I was immobile, blind, deaf, and mute. I was aware. I lay for a time, waiting. Waiting. Then I died.



Birth



Before I could see the sun and feel the wind and drink the rain, I had to die. I had to die so that I could be born. I know that sounds strange to hear, and it even sounds strange to say, but it is a fact. I died just as I was born. I remember it. One moment I was waiting in some suspended state that was not death and was not life, and then suddenly I was brought from the darkness, from the depths of the Earth; from Sheol by The Creator. No longer was I blind or lame or deaf or mute. I was alive.

The sun filled me with warmth and I could see, my eyes opened for the first time. The rain slaked my thirst. The wind caressed and cradled me, lulling me to sleep. I slept.



Growth



As I grew, my body stretched and reached high toward my Creator in the Heavens. My limbs became thicker, longer, stronger. My leaves burst like a million blossoms, green and supple. Each day in the magnificent sun was sheer joy. Its warmth on my skin and limbs and leaves reassured me: I was alive and this was not a dream.

The rain washed me clean over and over, filling the rich earth around me and I drank. The wind bathed me in the evenings and soothed me with its whispers all night. Birds began to build and I watched in wonder as each stick was carefully laid; as each egg was carefully laid. I listened intently to her birth-song as her babies hatched and it brought back many memories of my exodus from the grave. It would be some time before I bore fruit.



Twelve



Years passed: sun, rain, wind, earth, stars. Many birds enjoyed the safety of my branches. Many Men with their flocks took refuge in my shade. I became more and more aware of the other trees around me. Most were like me, but many were different. Something like that may seem obvious, but it indeed took twelve years before I understood that fact. I was always aware of their existence, but it was their uniqueness that now became apparent. I inquired of the elders about the others. This is what they said:

There are many, many different kinds of trees. All have a purpose given to them by The Creator. Some have played very important parts, some were minor, but all brought glory to Him.

The Cypress provided safe passage for Noah from the Great Flood. The Shittah provided safe keeping for The Law. The Broom provided shade and comfort for Elijah. The Cedars of Lebanon were used to build Solomon's Temple. Dates, Olives, Apples and Figs feed Man, and our bones make their homes and fires. Your purpose will bring glory to The Creator.

I began to deeply consider all these things, although I could not imagine what my purpose might be.



Thirty-three



These thoughts dwelled within me until the thirty-third year of my life. Still, nothing came to mind that answered my question: what am I for? I continued to serve the birds and beetles and sheep and Men, providing shelter and food and shade. I continued to grow, reaching toward Heaven so that I might inquire of The Creator my purpose.

One day there was a sudden great commotion in my field and I heard many Men approaching, but they continued on. I could hear their chop chop chop chop as they fell my brethren; as their purposes came to fulfillment. I watched and listened, but could not determine their use.



Complete


As I intently watched and listened to the Men, another approached. He was clearly different from the others. He was stricken with agony; cursed. He staggered and stumbled and his soul bled from him as a curling smoke from an extinguished fire. His hands were cold and calloused on my skin as he leaned against me and sobbed. I felt his hot tears as he slowly climbed into my arms. He fastened a cord around me and then around his own neck and fell and hung and died.

Judas. My purpose.

[havehope]

I have to say that this is quite a piece. It's very different which is very good. I like the way it is set out and how you have taken a certain perspective of the life-cycle of a tree.
You described the internal troubles and emotions of the tree really well. The ending had me thinking though. Is the purpose of this tree to be the medium by which Judas was to be killed? I'm still not too sure.
Good post.

[Arnklit]

I liked that it was so different and your descriptions were great, but I didn't like the plot very well. I think the mixture of the judas thing and the tree thing didn't really do any good to each other and ended up flattening both subjects.

This got me thinking of H. C. Andersen's "The Fir Tree" - about a christmas tree journey.

[kayzee]

Very original idea and very well told.
Great description and imagery - my fav.- "He staggered and stumbled and his soul bled from him as a curling smoke from an extinguished fire."
Again not too sure about the Judas thing being mixed in, but i would say 5/5 for the idea.

[superbum]

One of the most original stories I've ever read, I should have caught on sooner but the end really suprised me, great work.

[Peppy]

Unique I must say. I liked the biblical referrences throughout the piece. I was wondering if they served any purpose, and they do. You seemed to fulfill the times into the story--other than just to say "I was made for Judas.". The ending was dark, but the beginning wasn't at all. But then again, it is a tree, what other horrors can it face?

This is pretty good from what I read. Maybe more dark words and seemingly dark words could be fitted into this to fit the mood throughout. Hmmmm....