THE IDEAL TREE HOUSE

For ages, I wanted a tree house. One of those ones that have two rooms up in the tallest tree in my backyard. I built a scale model of this dream tree house using bits of twigs, bark, and leaves. I wanted to have something tangible to show my father to convince him to let me have this house.

Now, I never thought about who would build this tree house. It never crossed my mind to think about how this magnificant tree house would appear in the tree in my backyard. I simply wanted it and just needed the OK from my father.

So when I went to present this model to my father, I explained every detail. I showed him the stairs I made from layering woodchips, guiding the wandered up the tree trunk into my magical tree house. They led into the frist room, the small foyer where I intended to entertain guests, such as my sisters and brother. We could play board games and color, but stay contained, so they would not be able to mess with my sacred space, the second room.

The second room was filled representations of my prized possessions. Small acorns and stones symbolizing my book coolection, art supplies, and stuffed animals. I would hang my dream catcher up on the wall and this room would be my safe haven. I figured I would spend hours out there, giving myself time and space to be me and get away from other people. The bark walls and twig roof would be recreated with wood planks, secure and stable for keeping me safe.

I explained all of this to my wonderful father, who looked at me with amusement in his eyes. "I'm impressed," he told me, "but we can't build this."

With worry in my face, I said "Why not?"

"Because we aren't builders," he said, "we would not be able to make it safe for you to be up there."

"Then we can hire someone! We can find someone to build it for me," I responded with hope.

"If you can find someone and get them money for it, then you can have the tree house," he replied.

It was then that I learned sometimes big dreams have logistical problems that we cannot make work.