Tales from the Magic Tree - Volume 1 Read online

  Half an hour later George had finished the puzzle but there was a problem, one piece was missing - the piece where his heart should go. George was worried in case the teacher thought he had lost it so he kept looking for it, hoping that Miss Sommers wouldn’t notice. She asked if he was getting on OK but didn’t look up from her computer. “Yep I’m fine” he replied. George was used to saying he was fine even when he wasn’t. He would have to keep her distracted so that she didn’t notice that the piece was missing; she might think that he had stolen it or shout at him for losing it!

  Miss Sommers broke the silence.

  ‘George, I know something is troubling you. You looked very sad when I saw you earlier. Would you like to talk about it?’

  ‘Umm no miss, I’m Ok, thanks’.

  Miss Sommers expected this reply so she wasn’t surprised. She simply whispered,

  ‘Good, but I don’t believe you. I think something is worrying you but you don’t want to say it out loud. If it’s alright with you I’m going to show you a relaxation technique. You don’t need to do anything apart from close your eyes and sit comfortably. Are you willing to do that?’

  George didn’t mind and he was just happy to be out of class so he said yes.

  ‘Right, let’s get started. George, I want you to close your eyes, sit comfortably and breathe deeply in through your nose and out through your mouth. If you feel uncomfortable at any time you can open your eyes and we can stop. Now imagine a really nice place, it can be anywhere you want, this is a place where only you can go. The place can be real or imaginary, big or small, in the clouds or in the mountains; wherever you want it to be. This is a safe place for you to visit, it’s completely imaginary but it’s all your creation and it’s just for you. The best thing about it is that you don’t have to tell anyone about it if you don’t want to.’

  George had never done anything like this before, but he liked reading cartoons and imagining faraway places. He imagined that he was in the jungle. He was walking down a path that was made of sticks and only wide enough for him to put one foot down at a time, and then put it in front of the other one.

  There were big bushes next to him, tall trees in front of him and caves behind him. He could hear birds calling each other, and could see monkeys swinging in the trees above. It was really warm in the jungle and he was starting to feel warmer too. He could feel the heat on his skin, smell the smell of the damp mud - it had rained the night before so everything was still a bit wet, he felt totally immersed in this new place! He could also hear the faint sound of a waterfall; he was walking towards that at the moment. It was at this moment that his eyes became a little bit blurry, he immediately felt very calm, and it felt like he was in this world for real!

  Miss Sommers was quietly talking in the background, and asked him to find somewhere he could sit. He continued his journey going deeper and deeper into the jungle. The sun was setting so it was starting to get dark. He needed a place to sleep so that he was out of the way of all the animals. What better place could there be? He had luckily stumbled across a tree house. He had always wanted a tree house so this would be his special place. It was built on the first level of branches so it was just above the path, this would be perfect.

  He climbed up the tree and opened the trap door. He hung up a hammock, found a fluffy pillow and a warm blanket. Even though he was in the jungle, it didn’t mean he wasn’t hungry so he brought a tray full of doughnuts into the tree house too. This was great; he lay down on the hammock and started to drift off to sleep. The hammock was so comfy, the blanket was so soft, the breeze gently rocked him and through a small gap in the roof he could see the stars shining in the sky above.

  Miss Sommers quietly murmured,

  ‘George, I think that inside you are worrying about something but don’t know how to say it. Where you are right now, only you know about, and only you are there, so you can say whatever you want there, and nobody will hear you.

  George looked around the tree house. She was right, there was only room for one person up here and it was just him. Adults were too big to fit through the trap door and he was in charge of who could come in. So I guess it really is only me, he thought.

  He didn’t really like talking but he liked writing. He found a diary lying at the end of his hammock, picked up a pen and began writing. It was hard at first, but after a little while everything came pouring out. He wrote about his parents, his grandparents, school, his friends, football, and his feelings. The anger, embarrassment, disappointment, sadness, and worry, but also feelings of love, kindness and happiness. He had never written or really thought much about these things before, but it felt as if a weight had been taken off his shoulders. He also discovered that he could breathe a lot easier now.

  In the background he could hear Miss Sommers saying,

  ‘George, in your own time open your eyes, take some deep breaths and then come back to the classroom. You can go back to the place you have created whenever you feel you need to.’

  George felt a bit sad leaving his jungle. He didn’t know how long he had been there but it had been very relaxing. He opened his eyes slowly. For some reason that he didn’t understand writing his feelings down had helped him a lot, and he felt much calmer as a result.

  Miss Sommers handed him the last puzzle piece.

  ‘I think you’ll need this. Many different pieces make up that puzzle and they all need to be joined together to make it complete. This is the same with people. If one part isn’t working or happy then the whole person will not be happy either. Do you understand that?’

  George felt a bit confused about what she was talking about.

  ‘Hhm, not really.’

  ‘Well, let me explain. If you hurt your foot then you can’t play football. If you don’t understand the maths problem, you can’t answer it. If you don’t say what is bothering you, then we can’t fix it. So to be complete you need all your puzzle pieces to be joined together and this means saying how you feel. Talking about your feelings can be hard, but there are different ways to do it. You can write a diary, you can draw, you can go for a walk and then talk to someone you trust. Do you think you could do that?’

  This had been tiring. George wasn’t used to writing or thinking about how he felt, but he did feel a lot better, and he could see that Miss Sommers was probably right.

  That night George wrote in his diary. He kept his diary secret and wrote in it every night. Until, one night about two weeks later he decided to share his secret diary with his grandparents. He wanted them to know how he felt. Their reaction was not how he had imagined it would be. His Grandma gave him a big hug and said she was sorry he had those unanswered questions and of course she wasn’t angry with him. She only wanted him to be happy.

  Grandma sat him down in her favourite rocking chair, took off her little glasses, and told him all about his parents. She repeated that they both loved him and they just wanted him to be happy; he could ask them anything any time he wanted.

  George felt such a relief that he had been able to be honest for once that he started crying. He had never cried before, it felt so strange, but curiously he felt so much better after.

  From that day on he always told people how he felt. He had finally learnt in his own way that it was never good to bottle up his feelings. Now he knew the importance of keeping his life simple. Just say what he thought, rather than what other people expected him to say. He knew that they could help him if he needed it, and just occasionally they came up with answers he had never thought of!

  Finally George realised that there are painful memories but there are also many happy and loving memories too. Some feelings are painful but together with the happy feelings they make up a whole person and they tell the story of that person. Everybody has a different story, and everybody thinks about things differently. What we share is that we all want to be happy. Sometimes the journey we go on has unexpected bumps along the way, but just as in fairy stories there is always a way to find a h
appy ending.

  A few weeks later he was sitting under the tree, and laughing when he thought back to how stubborn he had been. A leaf slowly drifted down, and landed on his foot. Was it his imagination, or was it exactly the same shape as the missing jigsaw piece – the heart?

  The Girl that Tried to Please Everyone

  Over the years the tree had had heard so many stories, from so many different people. It wasn’t only the children that came to sit under the tree. It was a quiet place that adults came to too. They could sit and think without being disturbed. It was a relaxing place, looking over the faraway hills, and the bench had a soft cushion on it.

  One spring morning Miss Macmillan came to sit on the bench. She had been working at the school for two years and taught the Year One class. She loved teaching and loved the children. She worked very hard and was always thinking of fun things for her class to do. Although today she had a lot on her mind and was deep in thought when her friend Holly came over to see her.

  The two women talked for a little while; they talked about school, they talked about what they were going to do at the weekend and then all too soon the bell went. It was time for break so the kids would be coming out to the playground soon. Holly and Miss Macmillan decided to continue talking later. Miss Macmillan still felt confused and she hadn’t been able to tell her friend what was on her mind. They had spoken about lots of things but the one thing she really wanted to speak about was hard to put into words.

  Miss Macmillan wasn’t teaching today because her children were on a field trip. As she didn’t have any work to do she decided to go home early. She would go for a walk on the beach, breathe in the fresh air and think. She loved the beach, and always felt calmer after her walk.

  When she arrived at the beach it was very windy. She almost decided to turn around, and visit her other friend instead. She was ill and wanted some company. Miss Macmillan thought,

  ’No, I always go and see other people when they want me to, now I need to do something that I want to do.’

  She was enjoying being beside the sea, and stopped to watch the waves. She could see sea gulls floating on the surface, and hear the waves crashing. She carried on walking and eventually arrived in the old village. Miss Macmillan loved the old village, she loved the old buildings, she loved the little tea shops and she enjoyed watching the fishermen come in with everything they had caught.

  In the middle of the village was a wishing well. It was very deep and there were rumours that one hundred years ago some children had fallen down there. Now their ghosts would listen to the wishes that people made, and try and answer them. Miss Macmillan didn’t believe this silly story, but thought she would throw a penny and make a wish anyway. What harm could it do?

  Miss Macmillan’s problem was that she was confused because she had always done things to please her family, her friends, the people she worked with, and her boyfriends. She never did something that she completely wanted to do for her herself.

  She was scared of letting people down, and she was scared of them being cross with her. So she would always put herself out to make sure they were happy. She knew things had to change but she didn’t know how. She threw in her penny, closed her eyes and said quietly,

  ‘I wish I knew what I wanted.’

  Then she remembered the strange story about the children and the wishing well. ‘I wish you well too’, she laughed.

  When she opened her eyes everything had changed, it was crazy! It was as if she was seeing her life through a DVD player. She could see herself and she could see what she was doing. It felt as if she was watching a different person. She was in a TV control room, and there were screens everywhere. Each screen playing a different scene from parts of her life.

  On one screen she could see her last birthday - the one where she went to a restaurant that she didn’t really want to go to, but just went because that’s what her friends wanted. She could see her first holiday, she could see the time she lent her sister money even though she didn’t have any herself, and she could see herself at university. She was happy there but it was the one her dad had told her to go to.

  This was sad. All of her memories were based on what other people wanted her to do. Why hadn’t she done what she had wanted to? She had been peer pressured into a lot of things which she regretted now. She wanted to change, but like she had said at the well, she didn’t know how!

  It seemed as if other people would have their ideas before she had even had chance to think about what she wanted. They had already made their plan before she had answered. Sometimes it was just easier to go with the flow, because if she was honest, she didn’t really know what she wanted a lot of the time.

  At that moment one of the other TV screens lit up. A green light started flashing above it so Miss Macmillan took a closer look. She didn’t recognise this screen; she didn’t recognise the people in it, nor did she recognise the place. Then she realised with a fright that this was a screen from the future.

  Fortunately it looked like she was having fun. How could she get to that screen? The light stopped flashing but then another one started flashing above the next screen. This screen just showed a lake, it looked calm and peaceful. She clicked on it to see if she could enlarge it and then suddenly she was transported onto the river and was in a little rowing boat. It was a sunny day and the water was still. The sky was blue and the grass beside the lake was green. What was she doing here?

  Miss Macmillan started rowing, there were signs along the riverbed, one said go right for home, another said go left to play tennis, straight ahead to go and see your family. This was weird! She was drifting down a lake following signs put there by somebody else. She came to a junction in the river; it was splitting into four ways. Three of the ways were signposted but one of them was darker and it didn’t have any signs. It would be up to her where she went and what she did. Which path should she take?

  Miss Macmillan loved everyone in her life but she had learnt her lesson. She couldn’t keep doing everything just to make other people happy. She needed to do what would make her happy. Nobody apart from her could tell her what would be the best option. It had been easier to follow the signposted path because it felt safe. Other people said it was the right thing for her to do, but in her heart she knew she had to take control of where she went. She knew that she couldn’t carry on living her life when it was planned by everybody else. She always felt a bit guilty, and always felt like she wasn’t doing the right thing. Instead of enjoying the moment it felt as if half of her brain was telling her what a big mistake she had made.

  From that moment Miss Macmillan decided that she would be the one controlling where she went, what she did and which path she took. So she bravely decided to take the path without signs. She knew it could be scary and it might be hard to know what to do, but she wasn’t scared of making mistakes anymore.

  She had just started rowing down the new pathway when her boat tipped over and then magically she found herself back in the control room with all of the screens again. Luckily she wasn’t wet for some strange reason. She could see the scene on the TV being played of her in the boat. Some of the other screens were blank. She realised these were free so that she could fill them with whatever she wanted. Finally she understood and now felt strong enough to follow her own path in the future.

  She clicked the screen which showed her by the well, and returned to that same place. This time she felt different, she was in control. She remembered that there were lots of empty screens that she could fill up with her new memories and adventures.

  The next day she went to school and handed in her notice. She loved the children but she wanted to go on a new adventure, she wanted to make some positive memories and take control. At break time Holly came to find her and see if she was OK. Miss Macmillan didn’t mention what had happened the day before, or what she had been worrying about, because it didn’t seem to matter anymore. She had an adventure to plan.

  Miss Macmillan had always wan
ted to go travelling and meet lots of new people, see how different cultures were, and learn new things. She loved teaching children and thought that maybe she could help children in a different country. She could go away and make the most of her life - she didn’t want to waste one more day!

  The wise tree was pleased to see that Miss Macmillan was happy again. He didn’t like to see her tired and always trying to fit into other peoples’ plans. Now she was in charge of herself and already looked much better. Miss Macmillan had explained to her class why she was leaving and hoped to show them that sometimes doing the right thing can be hard, but in the long run it will work out better.

  Finally Miss Macmillan had learnt the importance of following your own path. She knew that sometimes she had to conform and follow the rules, but now that she was a grown-up she also had to do what was best for her, not what other people kept telling her to do.

  In the past she had tried so hard to please everyone, with the result that it had left her feeling upset. Worse, she hadn’t even realised at the time why she was upset. Now that she was in charge of her life she felt so much happier. She couldn’t believe it! One small change had changed her whole life!

  On her final day at work Miss Macmillan sat beneath the tree for the last time. She closed her eyes, and listened to the wind rustling the braches. Was it her imagination, or could she hear distant children’s voices? They were laughing and singing ‘We wish you well!’ Then she remembered the strange story about the children and the wishing well. ‘I wish you well too’, she laughed in reply.

  About the Author

  Lucy Simpson has worked with disadvantaged young people for over ten years, in both England and war-torn Angola. Her experiences inspired her to write these stories. She discovered at first hand both the strengths but also the doubts that many young people have about themselves, and their place in our complex society.