Speaker 1: This is Lee Habib and this is our American Stories,
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Speaker 1: thanks so much ahead of time because we've gotten so
Speaker 1: much support from so many listeners. And now on to
Speaker 1: a regular feature with author Winter Persapio. This story is
Speaker 1: about the lessons that Winter learned from the book The
Speaker 1: Giving Tree.
Speaker 2: I thought I had hidden it well enough. I shoved
Speaker 2: it in the back of the bookcase, and it had
Speaker 2: been successfully out of sight for nearly two years. But
Speaker 2: they have no compunction about such things at the library.
Speaker 2: These disturbing works of literature are just out on the shelves,
Speaker 2: within reach of the youngest patrons. The bright green cover
Speaker 2: seized my daughter's attention, and before I knew it, we
Speaker 2: were checking it out the giving Tree was back. I
Speaker 2: have always hated the Giving Tree. This classic book by
Speaker 2: Shells Silverstein is about a little boy who grows into
Speaker 2: an old man, taking and taking and taking from an
Speaker 2: apple tree. First he takes the apples to pick up
Speaker 2: some cash. Then he cuts down the giving tree's branches
Speaker 2: for a house. Then whack down goes the trunk for
Speaker 2: a boat. And the giving tree is nothing but a
Speaker 2: stump which he comes back later and sits on for
Speaker 2: a rest. And the misogynistic creep never once uttered a
Speaker 2: single word of gratitude, and yet at every turn the
Speaker 2: giving tree is happy. I say that is clearly a
Speaker 2: tree in need of some serious therapy, and that boy
Speaker 2: is in need of some hardcore sensitivity training. As a mother,
Speaker 2: there are many days where I feel like I am
Speaker 2: the giving Tree. I spend my day running around as
Speaker 2: a demented waitress, cook, nurse, and cruise director. I referee
Speaker 2: disputes manage egos, bite my tongue fifty times, letting only
Speaker 2: a few inappropriate things slip. I carry a child down
Speaker 2: the stairs who runs up them nightly. I rescue toys
Speaker 2: from under a bed that either daughter can crawl under
Speaker 2: without getting stuck. Halfway. I attend to the needs of
Speaker 2: this family of Leo's who spend the day roaring their
Speaker 2: demands all over the land until about nine pm, until
Speaker 2: at last they are all asleep. And I I am
Speaker 2: a stump, and I am so not happy. I'm ready
Speaker 2: to pick up my roots at ski Da to some
Speaker 2: other orchard where I'll be watered and fertilized, where my
Speaker 2: food will be prized. My lung branches admired, my thick
Speaker 2: trunk appreciated. I'm just not good at this giving tree thing.
Speaker 2: I thought it would come naturally as a mother, but
Speaker 2: I had no sense how much I'd need to give.
Speaker 2: My cluelessness is undoubtedly the result of a long life
Speaker 2: without children. No other generation has had so much me
Speaker 2: time before becoming parents. Our generation has had the luxury
Speaker 2: of truly choosing the commencement of parenting. For those of
Speaker 2: us who delayed bringing a new life into the world,
Speaker 2: we now have to contend with habits and natures built
Speaker 2: on a foundation that doesn't involve a whole lot of giving.
Speaker 2: With the exception of a few thousand Peace Corps volunteers,
Speaker 2: the rest of us have been the little boy taking
Speaker 2: from the giving tree completely oblivious to its love and generosity.
Speaker 2: We focus on important things with all of our energy
Speaker 2: and resources. These things were very important bc before children, cars, hobbies,
Speaker 2: designer clothes, careers, lives of complete strangers aka celebrities. We
Speaker 2: spent weeks smulling over choices, days discussing the latest trends,
Speaker 2: and hours sharing the juiciest bits of gossip. When children arrive,
Speaker 2: all these seemingly vital activities fade from our lives until
Speaker 2: we've found ourselves behind the wheels of minivans or they're
Speaker 2: carefully disguised equivalents, wearing anything that came out of the
Speaker 2: dryer and reasonable condition, talking on the phone about soccer schedules,
Speaker 2: and boxing up our collections to set them out for
Speaker 2: the next yard sale. Because now it's our turn to
Speaker 2: become the giving tree. Now is when we begin coughing
Speaker 2: up the apples and branches and soon a trunk. Some
Speaker 2: of us are better at being giving tree than others.
Speaker 2: Some of us. Okay, so I'm a rotten giving tree.
Speaker 2: I struggle more often than I like to admit with
Speaker 2: the role of relentless giver. And then it happens. My daughters,
Speaker 2: perhaps sensing the impending root rot in their giving trees
Speaker 2: suddenly begin to transform the orchard. They make me laugh,
Speaker 2: helpful of clothes, put away dishes, and cover me with
Speaker 2: hugs and kisses. They take my spirit in their hands
Speaker 2: and toss it into the air like leaves, giggling as
Speaker 2: they catch me in their arms. They say, thank you, mommy,
Speaker 2: You're wonderful. And even though I taught them to say
Speaker 2: that as a joke, it still feels good on those days.
Speaker 2: By ten pm, I don't care if I'm a stump.
Speaker 2: I don't even realize I'm giving. I'm just mom, a
Speaker 2: mother of two wonderful daughters, and being a giving tree
Speaker 2: seems like the easiest thing in the world until the
Speaker 2: sun rises and it begins again. I've come to realize
Speaker 2: that happy for a giving tree and a mother is
Speaker 2: not about comfort and relaxation. Happy is about having my
Speaker 2: little ones run beneath my branches, sheltering them in my shade,
Speaker 2: tossing out a few apples, and in the end, giving
Speaker 2: all that I have. Slowly, I am learning to be
Speaker 2: a giving tree as I'm trying to teach my children
Speaker 2: a sense of gratitude for all the giving that surrounds us.
Speaker 2: I am learning that this level of giving is not
Speaker 2: something we know how to do the moment our children arrive,
Speaker 2: Like gratitude, giving is something we have to learn. I
Speaker 2: guess at this point I'll dig out the Giving Tree
Speaker 2: from our bookcase. Maybe if I pencil in an occasional
Speaker 2: thank you You're wonderful, I'll feel just a little better,
Speaker 2: at least until I get the hang of all this giving.
Speaker 1: And great job on that piece faith and a beautiful
Speaker 1: performance by Winter Persapio, Like gratitude giving you something we
Speaker 1: have to learn and you have to almost develop an
Speaker 1: appetite for it. And my goodness, Winter has and what
Speaker 1: a beautiful piece of storytelling. We're looking for your stories too,
Speaker 1: about motherhood fatherhood, because these are two things that matter
Speaker 1: so much in this country. Now more than ever, kids
Speaker 1: are starving for love. The lessons from the Giving Tree,
Speaker 1: Winter Persapio's story here on our American Stories, Lee Habib here,
Speaker 1: and I'd like to encourage you to subscribe to Our
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