THE COMPASSIONATE TREE An Allegory on Co-dependency

In a small clearing in the forest, where there had once been a home, stood a sturdy young oak tree. Every year, as the tree grew taller and taller, she became aware of the world around her.

Surrounding the clearing were tall stately trees that beckoned her to join them. Together they would enlarge the green canopy of the forest.

On the ground below was a wide variety of shrubs, slender grasses, colorful flowers, and even a blueberry bush. In the midst of these was a new arrival – an English ivy vine. The vine was barely visible in the tall grass. But when the gentle breezes pushed the grass to one side, the tree beheld the rich color of the ivy’s leaves and the patterns with which they expressed themselves.

 “What a pity,” the tree thought to herself. “If the vine had something to grow on, its beauty could be enjoyed by everyone.”

The little vine grew cautiously along the ground, as though searching for something on which to pull itself above the tall grass. Finally, its tip touched the base of the young oak tree. There it paused for a few days, as though unsure of what to do next.

The young tree was enchanted by this new resident and wanted to help it become all that it could possibly be. “Place your stem against my bark and climb higher,” the tree whispered. “As you grow higher, the sun will bathe your leaves with light, and soft breezes will caress them. You will become even more colorful and beautiful.”

The vine nestled its leaves against the trunk of the tree and extended its tiny tendrils. They grasped the porous bark and stretched upward. Day by day, the vine grew higher and more beautiful. Now it could be seen and enjoyed by all.

The tree was very happy. Not only did she enjoy the vine’s growth, but she felt a new pride within herself. She was contributing to another being – a being that needed her.

As the years passed, the young tree grew taller and more stately. The ivy grew also. To support itself, the tendrils reached deeper and deeper into the tree’s bark and began to absorb some of the nutrients in the tree’s sap. The tree realized she was giving up something of herself, but thought of it as a sacrifice for the well-being of another.

The ivy actually grew faster than the tree. Soon it reached the tree’s lower branches. Its’ arms grew outward along the branches, while the main body continued to grow upward.

As the ivy grew, it became heavier and heavier, especially along the branches. Soon, the tree was having to strain to hold up those branches. This required energy – energy that came to her through her lifeblood, the sap. But not only was the ivy heavy, it also continued to take nutrients from the sap – nutrients the tree needed for her own well-being.

As the tree became more and more burdened, she found that she had less and less strength to deal with the burden.

The arms of the ivy that rested on the lower branches of the tree were consuming more and more of the sap that the tree needed to sustain those branches. After a particularly hard winter, the tree was unable to send any sap at all into three of the lower branches. There was no growth there, no new leaves with which to draw energy from the sun, no buds which would form acorns on which the squirrels could feast. The branches slowly died. During a harsh storm, the largest of these branches broke off and crashed to the ground.

When the branch fell, it tore the ivy’s arm from its body. But the ivy quickly recovered and continued to grow upward. Its’ arms were now growing on very one of the tree’s branches, and its needs were consuming most of the nutrients needed by the tree. The tree didn’t realize it, but she was dying.

When the tree felt weak or unstable, she distracted herself by focusing on the ivy. Its’ colors and patterns spoke of life and beauty. The tree told herself that her sacrifices were worthwhile.

Finally, the tree could not escape the reality that the ivy had taken over. It was becoming harder and harder to extend her leaves toward the sun, or to draw moisture and nurture from the earth, or to stand against the force of a strong wind. She realized she had given her life for this vine, and she was frightened.

What could she do to protect herself? The vine meant her no harm – it was probably grateful to her – but it was killing her just the same. She tried to summon up the strength to push the vine away from her, but its tendrils were locked tightly into her bark. She tried to withhold nourishment, but the vine’s rootlets had invaded every inch of sapwood. Perhaps if she had acted earlier, she might have survived. But how could she know that kindness could lead to destruction???

Although weakened, the tree was determined not to quit. But when a fierce storm struck the forest, the tree could no longer brace herself against it. The harsh winds blew against her . . . and prevailed. The once stately tree fell to the earth.