Wilbur

Wilbur



Wilbur was scrawny that Autumn day we brought him home. We loved him and nurtured him and said a prayer that he would survive and left the rest to the forces of nature.

As people passed by, you could read the hopeful expressions on their faces. His little limbs were pitifully thin. Hi stood rigid as if pain enveloped him. And Wilbur held his own.

By spring Wilbur had filled out beyond all our expectations. The concerned looks on the faces of the passers-by turned into bright smiles.

The end of summer saw Wilbur standing tall. Looking like a sentinel and waving to the neighbors, happily. Wilbur was truly handsome. He hibernated through the bitterly cold winter and came out with the spring like a king showing himself to his subjects. He gently brushed against my window to let me know he was on duty and happy to guard our fortress. Thick and lush limbs dangled low in the breeze. There was never a more beautiful Willow Tree.

The End