Shelby's Stories
Long ago, in a little dusty town in southeast Texas, near the Crockett National Forest, there once lived a woodcarver. The poor man carried a nagging thought in his mind all the time. He was a man with a mission, but was totally was in the dark as to what it was. He had lived in that town for years, carving all kinds of things; toys, furniture, tools, and even an art piece now and again. He had mastered his craft well. He gently and painstakingly carved slivers off the wood to make a fine polished piece. He was indeed a master
He thought about his life's purpose and what it was quite often and finally could stand it no more. He packed up and left that little town...just left the town. He needed space to think and room in his head for new ideas. He left to find a new town; one that would give him fresh ideas. One in which he could feel inspired in his mission, his masterpiece, what ever it was.
He wandered through the piney forest for weeks searching for just the right town to settle in and carve his great masterpiece. After almost a month of wandering, he came across a small town in a valley with trees covering the hills on either side. He could tell that this was the town for him. He walked down Main Street as children darted in and out between the old wooden buildings and patient adults. Something was just right about this town. He felt good. He wandered up into the hills, feeling the trees to see if they were the right softness with which to carve. They were. They were perfect!
The woodcarver rented a room above the bakery. It was a small room with just enough room for the bed, a workbench and a stool. After building shelves for the baker as partial payment for room and board, the woodcarver had plenty of business. The workmanship on the shelves alone stood out in the bakery and everyone requested his services.
As he sat at his workbench he could see the hills and trees standing straight like soldiers marching in mass. When the sun set over those hills and trees, the view was magnificent. Still the dream of making a masterpiece pulled at him. He began to take morning walks, touching the trees to see if one spoke to him and let him know what he needed to carve.
His walks were always taken with the bakers' son. He was a talkative young man of 8 years with had sandy hair and an infinite number of questions. Why are you feeling those trees? Aren't they all alike? You'll get splinters that way, you know. How do you know which one to pick? Are you sure you know what you are doing? Is this a good tree?
The woodcarver was very patient with the boy. But he did have a difficult time trying to explain why he was touching the trees, "I'm looking or rather feeling for something. When I feel the right feeling I'll know. I'll go straight to my heart, and I'll know."
One day as he was working at his table, he heard singing. Hauntingly beautiful singing drifted in the window; as perfect a melody as he had ever heard. Looking out the window, his eyes searched the scene to discover the
origin of the music, but saw nothing. Was there singing going on anywhere in the village? But no, there wasn't. Finally... it was the woodcutter's turn to ask a question of the Baker's Boy! That lilting song, where was it coming from?
The boy took hold of his hand and led him up a hill. There ensconced on the side of the hill towered the most magnificent tree he had ever seen in his life! It was enormous, its lovely green boughs shot straight out from its sides and the needles made a blanket on the ground for small animals to hide. As soon as he touched the trunk, he knew that this was his tree; it was meant to be carved by him. Suddenly he had an idea ! From this tree, he would make a giant clock tower for the town. It could be place above the county courthouse building and would be wondrous work of art. Something that the villagers would be so proud of, and his work would stand for all to see for generation after generation. His heart soared as he told the Baker's Boy of his grand plans.
Before the Woodcutter had even finished revealing his plans to the boy, he blurted out, "You can't do that! You can't! That tree is the Singing Pine Tree! It is part of our town and has been as long as anyone can remember. We all love that tree and we listen to its singing any time the wind blows!"
Almost as if on cue, the wind began to stir. As it swayed the great arms of the tree, magic happened! The incredible tree began to sing. It sang the lilting tune that he had heard earlier. He was almost overcome by the musical miracle, but came to his senses in the nick of time! He tried to explain to the child that this tree was intended for him, but the boy would have none of it. The Woodcutter finally decided to go back into the town and propose his idea to the adults. Surely they would understand that there could be no better use for that tree than a splendid clock tower.
He did as he had planned, only the townspeople couldn't be persuaded. The Singing Pine Tree was a part of the town and they would not allow him to cut it down, no matter what. "Some things just don't have a price you know." The Woodcutter begged and pleaded, but it was of no use. He had no choice but to forget his inspiring project.
Still, even as he listened to that incredible music every time the wind blew, he couldn't forget his idea. He felt so strongly that tree was meant for him. He finally decided he would cut the tree down anyway and that once the towns people saw what a wonderful clock tower they had, that they would be really glad he did it.
One night in the darkness, he crept... up the mountain... to the Singing Tree. He raised his ax, swung and BAM! It was stuck! The tree oozed amazingly sticky sap almost like blood that got on his hands and clothes and everything. It was so sticky that he couldn't remove his ax. He pulled and pulled, but it didn't budge. He was out an ax and didn't get the tree either. He was none too happy, but resolved that he would still have that tree and carry out his plans. He just needed a new ax.
The next day the Woodcutter took his new ax and a herd of cows up the mountain to graze by the Singing Pine Tree. He tied bells around the necks of each cow so that the townspeople would think the tree was still singing. He picked up his new sharp ax and walked around to the other side of the tree and drew back to chop. Suddenly a breeze came up and the tree began to sing. As soon as it did, the cows stopped eating to listen to the song and the bells stopped ringing. Now the townspeople would know something was up when the singing stopped and they heard the chopping. He waited and waited, but the wind didn't stop blowing and the tree kept singing. He finally gave up and took his herd of cows down the mountainside.
The next night he took a mule up to the Singing Pine Tree. He tied a long, thick rope around the tree and attached the other end to the mule. He started to pull the mule, which would, in turn, pull the tree right out of the ground. Again, the wind did its job and the tree began singing. The mule immediately stopped pulling and refused to move another step with the rope attached to the tree. The Woodcutter was really upset by then and plopped himself down on a nearby rock, exasperated. Realizing he was not going to get that tree; he might as well give up.... Perhaps he was mistaken....perhaps that tree really was meant to stay there and bring joy to the townspeople with its singing.... He might as well let go and acknowledge the tree's purpose must be greater than his.
As soon as that thought entered his head, he heard a frightening CRACK! A gnarled ancient branch from the tree fell right next to him, narrowly missing his head. Well! That was something! Not the whole tree, but maybe this was what he was meant to carve. But as large as limb was, it was still too small for a clock tower. Never the less, the Woodcutter accepted what he was given and gently picked up the branch. He carried it home on the back of the mule. The animal carried it easily, although it was a very heavy branch.
When the Baker's Boy came in the next day he found the woodcutter intent on his carving. The man barely heard him knock he was concentrating so hard. The boy asked what he was carving. The woodcutter replied, "I don't really know. My hands know and I'll know when they have finished. "
Days later he emerged from his room his arms full of finished pieces of wood. The branch had become many small wooden birds; delicately carved with elegant wings. The woodcutter allowed the Baker's Boy the honor of passing out all the small birds to the children in the village. All the children were enchanted and were dancing in the streets with their birds when something wonderful happened. ... All the birds began to sing! It was the same beautiful tune that the mother tree sang.... And the best part about that was that the Singing Pine Tree...sang back. The Woodcutter had indeed given the townspeople a gift that would be remembered from generation to generation.
Adapted from a book by Marni Stone called "The Singing Fir Tree."
Story List
Lizard and Fireflies
Lazy Jack
The Singing Pine Tree
Blue Corn Girl
Starfish
Student Work
Check out the results of Storytelling with Shelby shown in the students' great work!