But, What of the Tree?

I’m an Millenial, and while Shel Silverstein published his stuff well before I was born, his books seemed to be ubiquitous in my elementary-school days. Back then, there was a mad appreciation for the absurd universe in which his poems and stories took place. Pair that with his frantic art style, and you have a combination that couldn’t lose with an audience of eight year-olds.

As one gets older (as one must do), some of Shel’s work takes on a new, more sobering meaning. I’m not talking about his poem, Warning, where he warns that if you pick your nose deep enough, a sharp-toothed snail could bite your finger off…

I’m talking about The Giving Tree.

As a kid, the book was ever-present and adored by the whole family. As a kid, you witness the story from the boy’s point of view, and begin to wonder how difficult it would be to grow up some day, maybe wishing that you had a personified tree-friend that would make life easier for you.

As an adult–and especially an adult with children–you identify with the tree.

You will give anything and everything until there is nearly nothing left, and do it gladly.

But, still, isn’t the kid kind of a jerk?

Anyway, in honor of Shel Silverstein and his most impactful work, I drew my own final page of The Giving Tree. I don’t think I do him justice, but think of it as a circle of life beginning anew.

If you don’t recall, the final pages of the book show us the tree offering up whatever is left of her–a stump–for the Boy to sit upon, as he has become an old tired man.

The very last page tells us that the tree was happy…I just thought it needed one last illustration.