The Tree I Got Stuck In

I have a vivid memory of the time when my family and I went to the UK (I am a worldschooler, remember?). During our visit, my brother and I stumbled upon a moderately tall tree in the park. Without hesitation, we decided to climb it. It seemed like a piece of cake, as I simply followed my brother’s lead. Little did I know that descending from the tree would prove to be quite a challenge. You see, I assumed that going down would be just as easy as going up. After all, why would it be harder? In my mind, gravity should make it even simpler. So, I confidently followed my brother’s moves, unaware of the predicament that awaited us. As we tried different routes to climb down, none of them seemed to work. We were getting in each other’s way, growing increasingly frustrated. Part of me was thrilled by the unexpected adventure, as I had always imagined what it would be like to face such a situation (not that I had thought of how to get out of the tree since all the trees I climb are different). However, fear began to creep in, as I contemplated the possibility of being stuck in the tree for a very long time, a very very long time. My mum attempted to help but could not reach us. She too started to worry. I often feel that adults are overly cautious, overly protective and often worry for no reason at all. But this time, the situation was different. It was becoming more serious, and I wondered if we would have to call the fire department (like a dramatic scene I read somewhere in books) or what about let’s just create a treehouse to live in up there. Perhaps that would not be such a bad idea, I thought. As we continued searching for a way down, we even climbed higher a couple of times, hoping to gain a different perspective on the tree trunk. My brother nearly slipped a few times, which added a touch of danger to the situation. Falling from such a tall tree would be far from pleasant, and my brother might end up in the hospital. Have you ever been to the hospital before? It is not exactly the most enjoyable place to be. Strangely enough, despite the potential dangers of me falling, I was not overly scared. I am not trying to sound fearless or anything, but to be honest with you, it was more exhilarating and mildly annoying than truly terrifying. What puzzled me was that the adults nearby, though not stuck in any trees, appeared more worried than I was. As I pondered the situation, a few obvious thoughts crossed my mind: “Get out of the tree! Do not fall!” and a bunch of other similar thoughts. My mum could not help us because she did not even know the way up. Even if someone else climbed up, it would only make things worse by crowding the tree up there. So having one more person up there with us was definitely not the best choice. I was thinking even building a treehouse big enough to accommodate everyone on such a thin tree seemed like an impossible task. Hmm, strange, what was I thinking at that time? Thankfully, without any broken bones, injuries, or the involvement of fire departments, my brother eventually found a route for us to climb down. It was a tremendous relief! I consider myself quite lucky because, despite a couple of scratches (ouch!) from sharp branches, I made it down unscathed. Well, mostly unscathed — those scratches did sting a bit. But sadly without the treehouse too (my brother did tell me once that you cannot have everything in life, but that is another story for next time). Looking back, I realize how exciting and thrilling the experience was compared to what others may have encountered. I also learned some valuable lessons. For instance, it is important to assess the way down while climbing up and not blindly follow others without thinking for myself, even if it is my own brother. It reminds me of Aesop’s fable about the goat and the fox in the well, which I read once. You know which one, right? I bet you do. Or maybe not.

With the knowledge of mistakes ~ Nicodidiary