The giving tree, p.1
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The Giving Tree


  THE GIVING TREE. (c) 1964, renewed 1992 Evil Eye, LLC. All rights reserved under International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. By payment of the required fees, you have been granted the non-exclusive, non-transferable right to access and read the text of this e-book on screen. No part of this text may be reproduced, transmitted, downloaded, decompiled, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of HarperCollins Publishers.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  EPub Edition (c) 2014

  ISBN: 9780061965104

  10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

  FIRST EDITION

  Once there was a tree . . .

  and

  she loved

  a

  little boy.

  And every day

  the boy

  would come

  and

  he

  would

  gather

  her

  leaves

  and make them

  into crowns

  and play king of the forest.

  He would climb up her trunk

  and swing from her branches

  and eat apples.

  And they

  would play

  hide-and-go-seek.

  And when

  he was tired,

  he would sleep

  in her shade.

  And the boy loved the tree . . .

  very much.

  And the tree was happy.

  But time went by.

  And the boy grew older.

  And the tree was often alone.

  Then one day the boy came to the tree

  and the tree said, "Come, Boy, come and climb

  up my trunk and swing from my branches

  and eat apples and play in my shade

  and be happy."

  "I am too big to climb and play," said the boy.

  "I want to buy things and have fun.

  I want some money.

  Can you give me some money?"

  "I'm sorry," said the tree, "but I have no money.

  I have only leaves and apples.

  Take my apples, Boy, and sell them

  in the city. Then you will have money

  and you will be happy."

  And so the boy climbed up the

  tree and gathered

  her apples

  and carried them away.

  And the tree was happy.

  But the boy stayed away

  for a long time . . .

  and the tree was sad.

  And then one day

  the boy came back

  and the tree shook with joy

  and she said, "Come, Boy,

  climb up my trunk

  and swing from my branches

  and be happy."

  "I am too busy to climb trees,"

  said the boy.

  "I want a house to keep me warm,"

  he said.

  "I want a wife and I want children,

  and so I need a house.

  Can you give me a house?"

  "I have no house," said the tree.

  "The forest is my house,

  but you may cut off my branches

  and build a house.

  Then you will be happy."

  And so the boy cut off

  her branches

  and carried them away

  to build his house.

  And the tree was happy.

  But the boy stayed away

  for a long time.

  And when he came back,

  the tree was so happy

  she could hardly speak.

  "Come, Boy," she whispered,

  "come and play."

  "I am too old and sad to play,"

  said the boy.

  "I want a boat that will

  take me far away

  from here.

  Can you give me a boat?"

  "Cut down my trunk

  and make a boat,"

  said the tree.

  "Then you can sail away . . .

  and be happy."

  And so the boy cut down her trunk

  and made a boat and sailed away.

  And the tree was happy . . .

  but not really.

  And after a long time

  the boy came back again.

  "I am sorry, Boy,"

  said the tree, "but I have nothing

  left to give you--

  My apples are gone."

  "My teeth are too weak

  for apples," said the boy.

  "My branches are gone,"

  said the tree. "You

  cannot swing on them--"

  "I am too old to swing

  on branches," said the boy.

  "My trunk is gone," said the tree.

  "You cannot climb--"

  "I am too tired to climb," said the boy.

  "I am sorry," sighed the tree.

  "I wish that I could

  give you something . . .

  but I have nothing left. I am just

  an old stump. I am sorry. . . ."

  "I don't need very much now,"

  said the boy,

  "just a quiet place to sit and rest.

  I am very tired."

  "Well," said the tree,

  straightening herself up

  as much as she could,

  "well, an old stump is good

  for sitting and resting.

  Come, Boy, sit down.

  Sit down and rest."

  And the boy did.

  And the tree was happy.

  The End

 


 

  Shel Silverstein, The Giving Tree

  (Series: # )

 

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