The Wrong Tree

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Abstract

group of people within Canada. The concept is that I am one of those people and I can see into the future and predict my own death. I generally don’t think it is a good idea to have to explain symbolism; however, this is such a crazy story that the only way it is going to make sense is if I explain some of the symbolism beforehand. Don’t worry: the story has other symbolism which (hopefully) you won’t have too much trouble figuring out.We had to choose trees. I didn’t choose the best tree. The one I chose was a compromise. It wasn’t the best tree and it wasn’t the worst tree. It was a compromise. That’s just how I am. I like to choose the middle path, to compromise. I get by without going to extremes.I

Options

chose the maple tree because it has a good mix of virtues. Reasonably sturdy; some measure of flexibility; the sap tastes good and the leaves are pretty in the fall.My neighbor chose the oak tree*. It is strong, sturdy, and rigid.When the storm came my neighbor was unable to compromise. The trees would not bend and too many people died.Things would have worked out better if both of us had chosen the right tree.I’m sorry I did not chose you.Please don’t weep for me, willow.*Most people are aware of the relationship between Canada and the maple tree. Very few realize that the oak tree is the national tree of the USA.</article></body>

I am going to die because my neighbor chose the wrong tree

This story started out as a joke. A pun that popped into my head. That’s still part of the story. It comes at the end. Don’t scroll down and look.

The story has some complex symbolism. The “I” in this story is a country. My country, Canada. It is also a group of people within Canada. The concept is that I am one of those people and I can see into the future and predict my own death. I generally don’t think it is a good idea to have to explain symbolism; however, this is such a crazy story that the only way it is going to make sense is if I explain some of the symbolism beforehand. Don’t worry: the story has other symbolism which (hopefully) you won’t have too much trouble figuring out.

We had to choose trees. I didn’t choose the best tree. The one I chose was a compromise. It wasn’t the best tree and it wasn’t the worst tree. It was a compromise. That’s just how I am. I like to choose the middle path, to compromise. I get by without going to extremes.

I chose the maple tree because it has a good mix of virtues. Reasonably sturdy; some measure of flexibility; the sap tastes good and the leaves are pretty in the fall.

My neighbor chose the oak tree*. It is strong, sturdy, and rigid.

When the storm came my neighbor was unable to compromise. The trees would not bend and too many people died.

Things would have worked out better if both of us had chosen the right tree.

I’m sorry I did not chose you.

Please don’t weep for me, willow.

*Most people are aware of the relationship between Canada and the maple tree. Very few realize that the oak tree is the national tree of the USA.