Stella Skunk Spruce: Understanding the bully in ourselves and others
One spring day, a wise farmer began planting trees in his special grove. He planted every kind of tree needed for his farm to prosper. There were tasty fruit trees, sweet smelling flowering trees, tall stately evergreens, and trees with leaves that change color in autumn. Of course, the little saplings had no idea which kind they were. They were too small to know what they would become. They just wanted to grow as tall and strong as they could. Then the wise farmer hired a tree keeper to care for his baby trees. The tree keeper wanted to do a good job. He would make sure the baby trees had everything they needed to grow strong and become the best trees possible — at least, that’s what he told himself. So the young trees grew, day by day, wondering how tall they would get, how beautiful they would become and how they would help the farmer. Stella Skunk Spruce also thought about growing tall. In fact, she hardly thought of anything else. She was terrified of being even a tiny bit smaller than any other tree. In her mind, she could think of nothing worse. Each morning, as soon as she opened her eyes, she looked around the grove to see how much the other saplings had grown overnight. Then she would chat with the tree keeper for a while and point out how tall she was, and how sharp and green her needles were. Once she overheard a passerby mention that her kind was desirable for Christmas parties, so she convinced the tree keeper that, if he really wanted to impress the farmer, he ought to give her extra water. Soon she grew very tall indeed. The other baby trees also had dreams. They dreamt about how they could please the farmer with their gifts of fruit, flowers and leaves, but they never spoke to the tree keeper about their dreams. Each morning, as the tree keeper gave Stella her extra water, they would heave a quiet sigh and slowly lower their lovely branches. There seemed to be no reason to continue holding them up so high. “If only the tree keeper could see our good qualities as well.” Deep inside their trunks, in a place where no one could hear the words they were feeling, they cried, “Notice me tree keeper, notice me too,” but the words never made it to their lips. So, they stood in silence, morning after morning, watching Stella and the tree keeper chat and plan her future. Now, as fast and tall as Stella Skunk Spruce was growing, she noticed the other trees were also growing. This upset her. She felt uncomfortable with them sprouting up all around her, closing in on her space. As they grew taller, she felt smaller. She needed to be the tallest and have the largest space in the grove. She didn't know why, she just did. “The only tree the farmer really needs,” she fancied, “is me!” The next time she saw the tree keeper, she pointed out that the fruit trees attracted birds and animals to the grove. “The farmer wouldn’t want his grove stomped over by these unwanted guests,” she reasoned. The foolish tree keeper thought about it for a moment. “The fruit trees are not really all that important. The most important thing is that Stella is happy and has all the room she needs. She is the real prize of the grove. When the farmer sees what I’ve achieved with Stella, he will be very impressed.” With that, he got his hatchet and cut down all the fruit trees. That night Stella Skunk Spruce felt a slight chill in the air. She had never felt it before, so she simply ignored it. In the morning, as she was drinking her daily ration of extra water, Stella Skunk Spruce spoke to the tree keeper again. “The flowering trees are shamefully short,” she pointed out. The tree keeper could see that this was true, so he cut down all the flowering trees. After all, what use are short trees? That night the wind blew freely through the grove, making a scary whirling sound, but Stella Skunk Spruce barely gave it a thought. The following morning, at watering time, Stella Skunk Spruce began to complain again. This time it was about the leafy trees. “But some of them are just as tall as you and they don’t attract messy birds and animals,” the tree keeper questioned. “Yes,” said Stella Skunk Spruce, “but as soon as it gets a little cool they will drop their leaves all over the grove. Certainly, that can’t be good. I would never do a thing like that! Besides, it makes more work for you.” The foolish tree keeper nodded in agreement and cut down all the leafy trees. Stella Skunk Spruce couldn’t have felt prouder or more satisfied. There she stood, all alone in the grove, the prize of the farmer. “A glorious first choice for the Christmas party tree,” she thought to herself. She had made it. She was the best. The other trees, with all their fruit, flowers and fancy leaves that change color in autumn, could not make her look bad now. The farmer would be coming to visit his grove early the next morning and Stella Skunk Spruce could hardly wait. “Stand tall,” said the tree keeper. “I’m sure when the farmer sees you, he will be very impressed with my work.” Stella was thrilled. “At last, the farmer will see how tall and important I am.” That night the wind began to blow again and Stella Skunk Spruce felt a chill like never before. She couldn’t believe wind could feel so fierce. It pushed hard against her, bending her over backwards — breaking her. She cried out for help but no one heard. After all, she stood alone in the grove. This was what she had been wanting all along … or so she thought. Early the next morning the foolish tree keeper and the wise farmer came along to see the progress of the grove. When they arrived, a tragic sight lay before them. Stella Skunk Spruce had fallen on her back. Her small shallow roots dangled from her trunk, exposed to the air and drying sun. She was in ruin, surrounded by the tiny stumps of baby trees. What might have been a beautiful, tree-filled grove was now a barren field. The farmer was shocked. “Why did you cut down all the other trees?” he asked. The tree keeper recounted all the complaints Stella Skunk Spruce had made about the other baby trees. “I thought it best to cut down any tree that made her unhappy.” With this, the farmer became very displeased with the tree keeper. "I trusted you to care for my grove,” he said. “I gave you a variety of trees and each one was important to me. I love the tasty fruit of the fruit trees as well as the birds and animals they attract. I deeply enjoy the flowering trees. I walk through my grove in springtime and savor their sweet perfume. The leafy trees that change color in autumn make me laugh and when the leaves fall to the ground, I have such fun kicking them around.” “But sir,” said the foolish tree keeper, “Stella Skunk Spruce was the tallest, greenest and sharpest tree in the grove, so I gave her extra water and all the space she wanted. I thought, come December, she would make a splendid showing at your annual Christmas party. I thought you would be pleased.” “Oh foolish tree keeper,” said the farmer, “in this you have been most unwise. Stella Skunk Spruce didn’t know what was best! Her roots were shallow to begin with, so I placed her in the center of the grove. The trees with deeper roots were there to protect her. When you gave her extra water, her roots remained too small; they barely held her tall trunk to the earth. You cut down all the trees around her and she stood alone. This made her happy for a while, but soon the winter winds arrived. She needlessly suffered their force and freezing breath. At last, her shallow roots gave way and she crashed to the ground.” The wise farmer could see he needed a new tree keeper, one who would appreciate the importance of every baby tree in the grove, water them as needed and encourage each to grow and contribute its unique gifts to the farmer — be it tasty fruit, beautiful flowers, green Christmas needles, or leaves that change color in autumn. After a few seasons, a wonderful thing happened. The stumps of all the baby trees began to grow again. They had survived the cutting because their roots were deep. The flowering trees put forth their fragrant flowers, the fruit trees were heavy with tasty fruit and the leafy trees were round and full. They were all there, alive and well again — all except poor Stella Skunk Spruce who died alone on a cold windy night. Nevertheless, Stella Skunk Spruce did go to the farmer’s Christmas party. You see, that night the farmer chopped her up for firewood. Let’s Talk About It: 1. Look up Skunk Spruce (also known as White Spruce) in an encyclopedia: a. How tall do they grow? b. What problem do they have with their roots? 2. The baby trees each had qualities that made them different and special. Stella Skunk Spruce said these differences were bad, but the farmer enjoyed them. What are some qualities Stella and the farmer saw differently? 3. People have different looks, personalities, talents, and ideas. Can you describe some of these differences? 4. If the other trees had spoken to the tree keeper or the farmer, what do you think they would have said? 5. Why did Stella Skunk Spruce dislike the other trees? 6. The name Stella means star-like. What did Stella Skunk Spruce want? 7. What hurtful things did Stella Skunk Spruce do to get what she wanted? 8. Besides hurting the baby trees, how did Stella also hurt herself? The farmer? The tree keeper? 9. What foolish things did the tree keeper do? 10. Why did Stella Skunk Spruce die? 11. What happened to all the other baby trees a few seasons later? 12. What could Stella Skunk Spruce have done differently? 13. What would you like to say to Stella Skunk Spruce? 14. What would you like to say to the other baby trees?
© 2003 Therese Greenberg |
