Maria's Tree

On the corner of Barry Rd. and Tunstall Rd. in Scarsdale, New York stood for many years, a grand and majestic Hemlock tree. When we moved into our new home in the summer of ’76 this tall and imposing tree was instantly the favorite feature of our new home. As Maria once told me when we were kids, “We may not have the biggest house on the block but we sure have the tallest tree!”

The tree in many ways served as the constant backdrop of our youth. Maria, myself and our friends spent countless hours climbing it, seemingly going higher each time we did. From the top of this tree you could see the roofs of most of the houses on Barry Rd. and the distinctive belfry tower of Edgewood school two blocks away. We loved collecting the tree’s unique pines that served as small projectiles in a variety of games we played. During the winter months we’d throw them into the fireplace watching them crackle and make the holiday fires even more special.

But as special a tree as it was, when we moved to Scarsdale in that summer of ’76, it was by then a very old one. Belying its tall and magnificent stature was the fact that age was catching up to it. In the first few years we lived in the house we couldn’t ignore that it was decaying before our eyes. And when the Melee bug epidemic of 1982 came, (that decimated many of the Hemlock trees in the region), we were forced to acknowledge that our favorite tree would have to be cut down sooner rather then later.

Of course we kids didn’t want to hear it but the subject came up that winter and the subsequent ones that followed. In time my brother Dan went off to Cornell and Maria was soon on her way to Bryn Mawr. By the mid 80’s I was the only “kid” in the house and even I had stopped climbing the tree so much. Still, occasionally I would find myself late at night climbing the tree and thinking about the years gone by and knowing that the tree’s days were numbered. When I started college Maria observed to me that our beloved tree needed to go. I thought, “oh god not you too.” But my sister a lover of all living and beautiful things knew it was time and so I would be the last family member to finally give in. Maria assured me that she would pick a new tree, one even grander then the one we had, one that we would love even more. I assumed with Maria taking charge that she would get another “Hemlock”. After all, we both adored the tree so much it wouldn’t make sense to get different kind.

But soon after we decided to chop down the tree (of note, nothing is sadder then seeing a tree that probably lived for 75 years get chopped down in 10 minutes) I was taken aback when I came home a month later to see the new “tree” Maria got with my Mom. It wasn’t a Hemlock; it was a different variety altogether and smaller (not more then 5 feet!). In fact the stump alone from the freshly chopped down hemlock was almost as tall as this new tree planted next to it. I couldn’t believe it. What was Maria thinking? I quickly argued with her choice of tree but she calmly assured me that while it was true this new tree would never be as big as our Hemlock, but it would be Spectacular in ways that the old tree could never be. She assured me that this new “cherry blossom” tree would be, for one week each spring when it blossoms, the most beautiful tree in the neighborhood. She pointed out that these trees were "tourist attractions" in Washington DC, and that every spring cherry blossoms surrounded the Jefferson Memorial on the Tidal Basin in a sea of pale pink and white, and that they were famously a gift from the Japanese government in 1912. This to me was all very “interesting” but hardly a consolation. Our old tree was gone and now we had this. It was hard to imagine this puny tree having the gravitas and grandeur of our childhood tree and for what?-one week out of the year? It just made no sense. I let it be known that I thought it was a big mistake and vowed never to bring it up again. (although I did harbor resentment toward Maria because of it).

In the years to come I’d come home during the spring, for Easter or weekend visits but for whatever reason I always seemed to miss "that week" when the tree was in full bloom. Maria would always say the same thing “you missed the tree in full bloom again! You should have come out last week you brat!” This went on for a few years until the spring of ’94, when I was walking to my parent’s house from the train. And just as I turned the corner onto Tunstall Rd. I looked up and there it was, Maria’s tree in all its glory! I stood there gazing and could not help but start to laugh; I had to admit it, my big sister was right and now I would have to let her know.

I ran into the house and called her to apologize and gave a full mea culpa of my ignorance and lack of faith in her judgment. She quickly offered an “I forgive you” and “I knew you’d come around.” (It had been five years since she and my Mom planted the tree) “I just didn’t expect you to come around so soon”. Typical Maria humor.

Although Maria is no longer with us here on earth, her tree, “Maria’s tree” is still here. It is living, growing, breathing and for at least one week of the year, like it’s predecessor, is the most spectacular tree on the block. In Fact today April 26th 2008 the tree is in full bloom. Sometimes the biggest tree in the forest is not necessarily qualified to be the best. In fact a small cherry tree can compete with the tallest tree on the block. One of may lessons I learned from my big sister. A lesson I live and breath every spring.