This ten-minute story was written with the assistance of Story Cubes, a game consisting of dice featuring images on each side. The images on the rolled dice serve as prompts to inspire story-telling.

Please Note: As an Amazon Associate, I earn a commission from purchases generated by this link.

My prompts for this story:

Magic wand – tee-pee – the earth – rainbow

“Hold still,” said Oliver. “You’ll ruin the spell.” Grace fidgeted on the upturned pail that served as a stool while her brother circled her and gently tapped her head with a stick.

It was not any ordinary stick, mind you. He had stumbled upon it that morning, on the small path that led to a river near their summer camp, and had immediately known the true nature of what might have appeared to the untrained eye to be a mere broken branch. Its silver bark instantly informed Oliver that it had come from one of the nearby Beech; and Beech do not put gifts on Oliver’s path randomly.

He took it home and carefully wrapped an old leather shoelace around the thicker end. This, he knew, was the handle. Grace watched him, attentively. She admired her big brother’s creativity and the mysterious things he understood about the earth and the world. “It’s a magic wand!” She announced, knowingly. He smiled. She knew that meant she was right. He carved a few magic symbols near the handle. Now, it was ready.

His connection with the magnificent tree had started at a very young age. “There was a rainbow that day,” started Oliver. Grace liked to hear that story and asked him to tell it every time they stayed at the camp. It fascinated her to know this had happened before she was born, and yet her big brother trusted her enough to share his secret world with her. She would not tell anyone. She felt it meant the Beech had chosen her too.

“There was a huge rainbow that day,” began Oliver again, as he walked in circles around his sister. “You were in mom’s belly, and I ran to the edge of the pond to see it better and mom could not keep up. And that big toad that used to live next to our dock was watching the rainbow too. He did not even hop away when I came running. That’s how I knew it was a very important thing that was happening.” “And you sat next to the toad,” interrupted Grace. She loved that part best, because she loved toads and frogs, and lizards. “Yes, I did, and mom was not far behind us, but it was like Mr. Toad and me we were in another world.”

“And then I heard someone call my name,” continued Oliver. “It was like a whisper, and I turned to see who was there, and I swear I saw grandpa standing by the big Beech. And he looked like he was going to give me a great big hug.” “But grandpa was in heaven,” pointed out Grace. “He was,” agreed Oliver, “but people in heaven can do that sort of thing. So, I hugged the tree, and it felt like someone hugged me back. It really did. Maybe grandpa or someone else, but a very good person. And that’s how I knew Beech trees are special. They can do magical things.”

Grace was not fidgeting so much anymore. That story was so mesmerizing to her, even though she must have heard it a hundred times. Oliver circled once more and suddenly, standing right in front of her, raised his hand, made zigzags in the air with the magic wand and slowly lowered it to his sister’s forehead as he proclaimed, “Wham! You’re an Indian.”

Grace ran to the camp to get that big blanket she had used many times to turn the picnic table into a hideout. Oliver tied five long branches as best he could to make a frame and draped the blanket over it. Once secured, it looked like a decent tee-pee, just big enough for little Grace to climb in.

Normally, she would have insisted on sharing that sacred space with her stuffed bunny, but not today. The story of the grandfather Beech had awakened something different in her this time. She could not have named this feeling, but it inspired contemplation. Instead of the stuffed toy, she fetched a pad and crayons and retreated inside her tee-pee. She could see the tree from there, that very same tree. She spent the afternoon trying to capture its essence on paper.

Oliver sat nearby, quietly. He saw the change in his sister. He had changed too. The adults might have called it growing up. But what they felt was different. It was reverence.