Margarita's Tree

The sun bathed everything in its glow; it was a cloudless, sunny day, with an intense blue filling the landscape.

Seeking shelter from the relentless sun, Bruno and his granddaughter Margarita decided to settle near a large tree.

Bruno had come prepared for the outing with all the essentials: a picnic blanket and a basket filled with food—ham and cheese sandwiches, fruit, tarts, juice, and crackers with spreads—all lovingly prepared by Grandma.

While Bruno spread out the blanket, Margarita circled the tree; she imagined a thousand ways to climb to the top but didn't quite dare. I'll help you, her grandfather said, interlocking his fingers to form the first step for her ascent. Margarita smiled, thanked him, and began exploring the tree while her grandfather finished setting out the feast.

When they sat down to eat, Margarita began speaking faster than her grandfather could reply. It's a shame Grandma couldn't come; she would have loved this. Look, Grandpa, a dog! Look, Grandpa, that lady has balloons! She went on like this for a while, finally concluding with, Grandpa, tell me a story—a funny one.

Nothing specific comes to mind, but since I saw how well you got along with this tree, I think I remember a story you might like.

A long, long time ago, a god named Apollo—considered the god of reason and intelligence—mocked the god of love, Eros. He said all sorts of things to hurt Eros's feelings, until one day Eros decided to teach him a lesson. He took his arrows and shot a golden one at Apollo, making him fall in love with a nymph named Daphne, and aimed a leaden one at Daphne, causing her to feel nothing but rejection toward Apollo.

Apollo chased after Daphne, and she fled from him. Grandpa, something like that is happening to me at school; there’s a boy who chases me, she interrupted. I hope it doesn't end the way this story does, he replied. So, she fled, wanting to remain free; Apollo drew closer and closer. Daphne ran fast but grew tired, and just as Apollo was about to catch her, she begged her father—the river god Peneus—to save her. He turned her into a laurel tree just as Apollo touched her. Saddened and pained, Apollo embraced her and declared that the laurel would be sacred to him—his tree and a symbol of glory and victory.

—Grandpa, what does that story mean?

—Honestly, I don't know. What do you think? To me, it showed that one shouldn't underestimate love.

—Grandpa, if you don't know, I certainly don't. But I liked the story.

Margarita stood up, ran to the tree, and hugged it.