Autobiography of a Tree

By [http://ezinearticles.com/?expert=Rithika_Iyer]Rithika Iyer
Deforestation is something we all hear so much about. We hear of the problems it is causing, of what we should do to reduce it and so on and so forth. But do we ever hear what the real victims of deforestation, the trees themselves, have to say?
One day, she found me lying on an impervious, man-made surface, near-dying with the lack of any nutrition. Cement, I believe, was the name of that material which I eventually grew to despise. She picked me up and put me in a new home - the soil. I was grateful to her for saving me. She watered me every day. Soon I grew a root that gave me my first taste of Mother Earth's own water and a shoot that allowed me my first feel of the glowing orb in the sky from where I got my energy. That day, when she came out to water me, she crowed, "You've got a leaf! And not just one, you've got two!" Even though I couldn't say it, I felt happy too - just by hearing the joy in her voice.
A few months later (or so I thought, as time had no great value for me), I was taller than she was. I kept growing taller and stronger with each passing day. My roots went deeper into the soil and it was indescribable pleasure to feel it parting and letting my roots further in.
More months later, I was taller than her house. She still watered me every day. I could even feel others like me nearby. She used to tell me her secrets every time she came. Once she even told me that I was her best friend. I merely listened to her. It was satisfying to do just that.
Even more months later, I was fully grown. "You must be prouder than a peacock about it, right old Teak?" She said fondly as she watered me. She had been calling me 'Teak' for a long time now. She patted me and went on and I felt joyful as I always did. I had never known otherwise in all this time.
One fine day, however, things changed. I sensed a sadness in her as she was talking to someone. Soon, she ran over to me and hugged me. Crying, she said, "I'm sorry, Teak, but Papa says you're to be cut down. I'm so sorry!" I didn't know what she meant, but I shed some of my leaves to show that I had heard her. When she went back in and shut the door, the thud triggered a strange feeling in me... a feeling you might call 'foreboding'. Soon (or so it seemed to me), a strange keening sound came to me. For the first time in my life, I felt afraid. I wanted her to come here and be with me, but I couldn't call her. I didn't have a voice that she could hear and she didn't understand the tones of the wind that whispered so many things to me.
And then I understood what she had meant. A strange machine was violating me. It hurt so much, but there was nothing I could do except think of happier times. A strange numbness spread through me as the object penetrated further. The pain reached a crescendo and then I couldn't feel anything at all.
To get back to the point, deforestation is indeed a menace and it's not just a basic, mechanical understanding of it we need to curb it. It's an emotional one, like a lot of things nowadays. So put your thinking caps on and spare a few minutes to see what you can do.
Article Source: [http://EzineArticles.com/?Autobiography-of-a-Tree&id=6374854] Autobiography of a Tree