An Acorn 一粒橡树果

An Acorn

Written by Betty Yang, Edited by Amy Hays

There once was a big oak in a valley. She was tall and strong with a lot of leaves. In autumn she bore many acorns. When the leaves became brown, the acorns were ripe. Some acorns dropped under the big tree, some were picked up by deer, squirrels, raccoons or blue jays. One particular blue jay always came to collect a mouthful of acorns, flew away, then flew back for more.

One little acorn felt confused. “Mum?” she asked.

The big oak tree smiled. “Yes, my dear?”

“May Iask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“I’m afraid to be far from you. Do you mind if I just drop down onto the ground beneath you?”

“Oh, my baby,” the big oak replied fondly. “I’ve already reserved a large amount of energy inside your shell, to give you a good chance of surviving. Even so, of the many acorns that drop beneath me, few are likely to germinate in my shadow. Jays eat acorns and store you by burying you to eat later. They can also carry you several kilometers away. It may be worth taking a risk and going with the jays to explore the land farther out. Don’t be afraid. That’s how our oak trees spread around the world. One day you will understand better.”

On hearing that, the little acorn became happier and more confident. “Thank you,mum,” she said.

The little acorn lifted her face and gave an incoming jay a big smile. The jay flew over, picked up the little acorn with its beak and held her there. It gathered a few more acorns and flew away to the far edge of a forest where it buried them in the soil, covered them with leaves, and then flew away again. With their mother’s encouraging words in mind, many acorns were carried away by jays to faraway places.

Autumn passed and winter arrived. The land was smothered with thick white snow. The acorns on the far edge of the forest were sleeping underneath the snow, safe and sound. Fortunately their mother had given them thick shells. One day, however, there was a flapping sound above them. A bird landed, dug the snow and uncovered the leaves. Soon it found the acorns. It was the same jay that had buried the acorns in the forest. It looked hungry. The jay gobbled up a couple of acorns. Then, just as it was about to pick up the little acorn, it burst into a dreadful screech. A hawk swooped down with a WOOSH and snatched up the jay with its sharp claws. Before the little acorn had time to understand what was happening, the hawk flew high up into the air with the jay, who was badly hurt but still struggling to break free from the powerful claws. The little acorn was left by herself, lonely but safe.

As time passed the days became longer, and the sun warmer. Spring had finally arrived. The snow melted into water and everything woke up refreshed. With plenty of nutrition in her body, the little acorn germinated and sprouted into a tiny green seedling. One year, two years, one decade, two decades, pass. The little acorn’s seedling grew bigger and taller, eventually becoming a young oak tree on the edge of the forest.

With her growing height, she could see farther and farther away. She often looked in the direction of the valley where her mother lived, looking forward to seeing her again one day. The day she finally caught sight of the familiar figure in the distance, she was so happy and excited that she waved her branch at her mother, like a big hand. Even though she was not sure whether her mother had seen her, she still had the sweetest dream that night.

It was a real scorcher the following summer. Everything was very dry. All the plants were waiting eagerly for the rain to come. Finally some dark clouds began gathering together and moving towards the valley. Suddenly there came a bolt of lightning followed by loud thunder. Then some smoke came out of the valley. It didn’t take long for the dry leaves and branches to burst into flames. The fire quickly spread, gobbling up everything voraciously. Although everyone had been longing for rain, the wild fire came out of the blue. The young oak tree could only stand on the edge of the forest watching from the distance, devastated.“Oh, mum,” she sobbed. Her heart was broken. The valley was all burnt out before the rain came pelting down. Drenched with rain, and with deep sorrow in her heart, the young oak realized why her mother had encouraged her to travel far. “Thank you, mum,” she whispered. She understood now.

When autumn came again, the young oak tree became bigger, stronger and full of energy. She bore her own children; many acorns. She enjoyed telling her children the old stories and welcomed the jays and other animals who liked to take her babies on journeys. She would always remember and repeat the old saying, “Don’t be afraid. That’s how our oak trees spread around the world.”

The End