By Gypsie-Ami Offenbacher-Ferris
Pointing in wonder at the huge thing made of fiberglass, fabric and optical lights behind the thick glass in the museum display, the youngest boy asked his dad what it was.
The dad looked up and could not believe how tall it was or that something living could ever get so big.
Amazed, he turned to his own dad, the youngest boys Grandpa and asked if he knew what the thing was that had captured the rapt attention of all of them.
Their grandpa strained to lift his head, his arthritic neck complaining so loudly, they all heard the ominous popping of his joints as he looked up and up higher and higher.
When his eyes finally reached the top, a small tear formed in his hazy eye when he told them it had been nearly a hundred years since he had seen one.
His eyes grew misty as he remembered and told them a story with love and longing how these used to grow by the thousands, created forests and woods and homes for all the wild creatures of the earth and he said with subdued reverence, that’s a replication of a tree my loves, extinct so long ago I’m sad to say and all the children echoed his word with innocent adulation, tree.