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Page 12 text:
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No one knows If they’ll live or die. No one knows The hows and whys. No one knows The meaning of life. No one knows Except them . . . They who long To explore the unknown. They who try to understand. They who have learned to love. They who are bound To know the answers.”
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Page 11 text:
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The next year the leaves fell again. And again the next. And again, and again. The tree was so full of self-pity that it didn’t notice what was going on around it. It seemed that he was ac- tually alone in the forest, and indeed he was. He had just opened his eyes and seen himself. He was now a giant tree with long, strong branches reaching for the sun, and tough, wide-spread roots buried deep in the ground. The tree looked around and saw that he was respected. Many years had gone by and he had yielded many leaves and sat them safely in the grass. But now he was extremely curious of what would happen to him in the future. When the owl came again to visit, the tree questioned him about the change and about the future. The owl told him that he was now a tree of wisdom and could lend his wisdom to others. “There is a lot that happens inside of you,” said the owl. “Show me,” said the tree; “Show it all to me.” And the owl began to speak of what he saw: “Down the halls The lovers roam To find the knowledge No one knows. Where they came from Where they’ll go— No one knows. They search for answers In bundles of books And ask complex questions There are no answers to.
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Page 13 text:
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U ) The tree doubted the truth at first, and the owl told him that he had to believe in order to grow and to keep from being cut down. A fly by night preview of “Mr. Time and His Son” Was posted on your empty Halls and doorways. “He Has Struck Again,” this time Was the headline. “When Will It Ever End? was in Bold print underneath. “Oh, sometime Sunday morning,” was The president’s prediction. “But Sunday mornin’ ya’II be snorin' And I’ll be carrying on an eternal tradition.” And so the story ends. I do not know what will become of the tree when I am gone, but so far Time has not taken its place. I am almost certain he never will, but if he does I hope it does not happen until I have been sat safely in the grass. Jo Avery
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