The story of the apple tree

In Mrs. Xuan's small garden, the air was always filled with the cheerful sounds of laughter and conversation, like a small stream flowing tirelessly through all four seasons. Amidst the myriad of lush green trees and fruit plants, there stood a quiet, contemplative apple tree. In spring, when the peach blossoms burst into vibrant red and pink, and the chrysanthemums carpeted the ground in brilliant yellow under the morning sun, that apple tree silently sprouted new leaves, carefully absorbing every ray of sunlight and every drop of rain, yet never once did it bloom.

Illustration: PV

Time passed quietly. Towards the end of summer, the neighborhood children excitedly flocked to Mrs. Xuan's garden. They vied with each other to climb the pomelo and mangosteen trees, their tiny hands nimbly picking the fruit, their laughter echoing in the wind like a flock of sparrows in the changing season. Only that apple tree remained, its branches lush and green, but bare, not a single sweet fruit hanging on its branches.

The children called it "the lazy apple tree" and then carelessly ran off to play in another corner of the garden, not bothering to look back. The apple tree heard it all, each teasing word like a delicate scratch on its bark. It looked up at the clear sky, where the clouds drifted towards the distant horizon, and a nameless sadness suddenly gripped its heart.

"Why can't I bear flowers and fruit?" the tree wondered to itself, silently amidst the breezy summer nights, the bright moonlit nights, and the children's laughter echoing in the wind.

"I tried so hard!" the tree whispered. "I woke up at dawn, welcoming the first drops of fresh dew, I chatted with the bees and butterflies, I stretched myself to feel the wind and the sun... and yet..."

As the years passed, the apple tree grew silently. From its humble beginnings, it had become a sturdy, ancient tree, its roots deeply embedded in the earth, its branches spreading wide like a cool green umbrella, sheltering a vast expanse of sky. But strangely, from summer to autumn, it only shed its yellow leaves, carried away by the wind, never bearing a single sweet fruit.

*

One summer day, under the golden, honey-like sunlight, a family of tiny warblers flew and perched on an apple branch. They chirped and flapped their wings, their voices echoing like musical notes.

Apple tree, can we make our nest in your branches?

Hearing the sound of the sparrow, the apple tree gently swayed its leaves, its voice as soft as a whisper in the wind.

- There's a very sturdy branch over there. You should build your nest there. It will be safer, protected from sudden rains and storms that could come at any time.

In the days that followed, the small, delicate nest, meticulously woven from soft grass, prepared to welcome the tiny creatures about to be born. Summer suddenly changed, heavy rains poured down, and strong winds toppled many branches in the garden. In the midst of the storm, the apple tree remained silent and steadfast. It spread its branches like a large cloak, sheltering the tiny bird's nest trembling in the cold wind.

Beneath the broad canopy of the apple tree, the baby birds lay peacefully, dry and warm, sleeping soundly amidst the gentle sound of falling rain. The mother warbler stood on a branch, her song echoing in the wind and rain.

Thank you, kind apple tree!

For the first time in its life, the apple tree heard a thank you. Its heart fluttered, each beat producing sweet, sparkling sounds like a whispered melody. A strange, gentle, yet profound joy spread throughout the tree.

From that day on, the apple tree was no longer lonely. It became a shared home for countless tiny creatures. In the hollows of its branches, honeybees diligently built their nests. On the high branches, baby squirrels frolicked, their cheerful laughter echoing throughout the garden. The apple tree stood there, silent yet radiant, quietly embracing these tiny lives in its verdant embrace.

*

On those sweltering summer afternoons, Mrs. Xuan would often place her old rattan chairs under the apple tree. Sometimes she would leisurely knit, her soft hands moving nimbly in the golden sunlight; other times she would turn the pages of books that had faded with time; and sometimes she would drift off into a peaceful sleep under the cool, green canopy of leaves.

The apple tree whispered softly in the gentle breeze.

- I may not have sweet fruits, but I can extend my arms to provide shade for everyone.

Every scorching summer afternoon, the neighborhood children would gather under the apple tree. They would spread out mats, set up their toys and tiny packets of candy, then lean against the cool trunk and read comic books, their eyes gazing dreamily through the gaps in the leaves glistening with sunlight. The children's clear laughter echoed like a babbling stream flowing through the garden. Deep within, the apple tree felt a warmth in its heart, and it murmured to itself.

- I have also contributed a small part to this beautiful life.

Then one day, news of a major storm spread everywhere. The sky darkened, and the wind howled in gusts. The sky turned pitch black, and the strong winds knocked down bushes and grapefruit trees, leaving them uprooted and scattered haphazardly throughout the garden.

The apple tree swayed violently, the wind howling through its leaves. Other trees hurled themselves toward it, as if seeking something to cling to, scratching at its bark until it seemed to bleed. Yet, it plunged its roots deep into the earth, bracing itself, bending under the weight to protect the small bird nests, the beehives nestled in its hollows, and the honeysuckle vines entwining its branches.

When the storm passed, the garden was devastated. Leaves lay scattered like a sad golden carpet, broken branches lay strewn about. But amidst this scene of ruin, the apple tree still stood silently, its trunk tattered, its branches torn, yet steadfastly sheltering the tiny creatures beneath its canopy.

After clearing away the debris and cutting down the broken branches, Mrs. Xuan walked slowly to the apple tree. She gently placed her aged hand on the gnarled, wounded trunk, whispering as if speaking to a long-lost friend.

Thank you, brave apple tree.

In the days that followed, the children and Mrs. Xuan gathered around to care for the apple tree. Some carefully bandaged the oozing wounds, others diligently watered it and picked away every dry leaf. Mrs. Xuan added fertilizer, scattering it around the base and gently tending to the soil as if caring for a beloved family member. Understanding this silent love, the apple tree told itself it had to be stronger, to continue living not only for itself, but also for the laughter and small dreams beneath its branches.

As time passed, the apple tree gradually revived. Its foliage turned lush green again, and its shade once more enveloped the garden like a silent yet enduring protection, like the gentle yet undying love of nature.

*

The following year, on a crystal-clear morning, Mrs. Xuan stepped out into the garden. Looking up at the familiar apple tree, she suddenly froze, her heart pounding. A miracle was unfolding before her eyes: above the lush green branches, tiny, pure white flowers were gently blooming, as pristine as the first snowflakes of the season. Mrs. Xuan exclaimed with joy.

Look! The apple tree has bloomed!

Her joyful shouts drew all the children from the neighborhood towards her. They gathered around the tree, their eyes wide and sparkling, as if they were standing before a miracle.

- So beautiful!

They're tiny, just like real snowflakes!

- Keep going, dear apple tree!

The honeybees nestled in the hollow of the tree also chirped and whispered to the apple tree.

- Thanks to your protection, we've had a peaceful place to build our nest. Now, let us help you pollinate the flowers!

The apple tree silently received that love, its heart filled with warm gratitude.

Day after day, under the gentle golden sunlight, the tiny flower buds grow larger, eventually forming plump, round apples. In autumn, they paint the entire tree a vibrant red, their sweet fragrance carried on the breeze, filling the garden.

For the first time, the apple tree bore fruit not because it had to conform to the patterns of other trees, but because it had silently loved, silently protected, and silently given away everything it had through countless seasons of sunshine and wind.

That autumn, under the apple tree, Mrs. Xuan and the children held a small, cozy party. Bright red apples were cut into small pieces and passed around amidst joyful laughter. The first apples of the season were sweet, sweet like gratitude, sweet like the clear and gentle memories of childhood.

The apple tree whispered softly in the gentle autumn breeze.

- It turns out I don't need to be like anyone else. Just live a decent life and be patient, and miracles will happen naturally.

The setting sun bathed the garden in golden light. The apple tree stood there silently, radiant in its own unique way, like a quiet song sent to all hearts that know how to love, wait, and hope.

Source: https://baophuyen.vn/sang-tac/202505/chuyen-ve-cay-tao-c281d9a/