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Every time I go for a walk in the park, there’s a child sitting on a swing fixed through a dogwood tree. I asked him if he still enjoys swinging by himself even though there are some other swings designed and built better in that park.
“This swing is too old for a child like you, buddy.”
He looked at me and smiled.
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“I do not use this thing anymore, but I always sit here, holding on to the rope while looking at the other children playing. I used to enjoy this when my father was still alive.”
This child got me teary-eyed that I had to look up to the bright blue sky to ease my emotion.
“Hey, are you crying? I understand. Sometimes, it’s okay not to be okay. At least, this tree is here. I’m glad that it’s still here.”
