The Bald Man And The Tree

In the middle of a village, below the mountains lived a man that had a beautiful garden. He enjoyed spending time there so much, that he felt it like a pet. It was a small one, 5 meters wide, 8 meters long with mixed plants, vegetables and fruits. In the middle of the garden there was a cherry tree, at the entrance from the main street there was a large pear tree. Every day at about 5, when his shift at the factory was ending, he'd rush at home to spend time in the garden. Especially when the weather was nice. The village where the man was living, was located under a narrow hill that was part of a broader mountain chain next to the Alps. The air was fresh, the water was clean, the live was full of small joys that the modern world had forgotten about. It was because of the village's location that so many tourists visited it every day, especially on weekends.

Every time some of the tourists would notice the nice tidy and fruitful garden, the man was full of pride.

"Yes, I took care of it since I was 23", he'd say, "Now I am 68, so you do the math".

One sunny Saturday, a group of people approached his house and started taking photos.

"Ahh look at the small fountain, it's so cute...", some said.

"Are the pears edible?", another man asked.

"Please, please, see, do not touch, all of these houses are private property", said the tour guide.

The man heard the people talking and rushed towards the gate, slowing down his steps as he approached the group.

"Would you like to have a pear?", he asked.

"Well, they look quite delicious", said a woman from the group.

The man reached towards the the tree and pulled 3 large pears.

"Here, have some", he offered the group.

Longest hands, first served.

"Mm, These are delicious Mr.", someone said. "Do you live here permanently or just over the weekends?"

"I live here since I was 23, now I am 68, how long do I live here?".

The man's slyness was revealed by the shy smirk on his face.

"Well, that's hell lot of time".

The group took the opportunity to rest as they were observing the house and the garden for a while.

"Don't you regret missing so much from the real world?", another man asked.

"Regret? I am 68, what's there to regret about at this age? Did I miss something that would have made my life easier?"

"Do you go to the city?"

"Rarely. I've been 13 times in my whole life. All because of doctors and medicine".

"Where did you live before your 23rd?", asked the man with authentic curiosity.

"I lived with my parents in a village at the west of the land".

"And your whole life you've been only about 15 times in the city?"

"Even less!"

"But sir, you are missing so much!", said the tourist shocked.

"On what?"

"Life, modern life. Things happen in the world you know. And before you know it, they might disappear. Don't you want to experience all that?"

"Ah that modern world of yours", said the man.

"You know what I am missing from that world? I miss my time. Because that world had thought me the wrong values that I carried for more than 20 years, until I turned 45 years old"

"How so?"

"You see this tree. When I planted it, I got so obsessed with it that I only cared about it. I'd do all the things to make it grow strong. I would wake up in the middle of the night just to check if everything was ok with it. At one point I was thinking "Would it be here when I am 40?" Then I turned 40 and the tree was there, all strong and beautiful. Just like my obsession with it. Then I'd buy all the expensive nutrition and protection for it that it cost me a fortune. Later I'd think "Would it be here when I am 60?". When I was 60 the tree was still there. All strong and beautiful. Its branches were full of leaves, and I have already lost all of my hair. I was bald. One day, I looked at the tree and its gorgeousness shined through the rays of the morning. And only then I noticed the other plants too, and my garden and my house. Everything was beautiful. But I missed most of it for the previous 40 years. That made me really sad. Those were the values I was taught in my early years, before I moved here. The books I read, the words I heard were all about working, doing just enough so that we start really doing once we get old. And the truth is, some of us don't make it to get old."

The group stood there in silence. They were shocked by the truth that was spoken straight into their ears. Finally the tour guide interrupted the silence. "Ok, we must be going, thanks for the nice talk Mr.".

The man stood at the entrance of the garden, looked at the tree and waved the group goodbye.

When the night finally came, he put an old hay pillow over the wooden bed and laid down resting. He fell asleep dreaming of the years and the times he could have enjoyed, but missed them, obsessing with something that was out of his control.