The Oak Tree by Julie Judish - HTML preview

Epilogue

It had been nearly three months since she had her first day of work at BeckFord Financial Corporation. The young executive was doing quite well. Jo, Alex and Charlie were taking business courses at a college in New York, working, and attending many social events. Everyone wanted Jo and her two best friends to attend their parties. Jo knew it was some sort of social status, but she didn’t care about that. They only attended the ones Alex approved of.

It was Labor Day Weekend, and Jo and all her friends had returned to California to attend an annual celebration in their hometown. Jo had been greeted warmly and affectionately by many of the same people who had snubbed her, Alex and Charlie in high school a few short months ago. For that reason, she avoided those people, and just stuck with her loyal friends.

Today was the last day here. She was leaving shortly to return to New York and her new, hectic, thrilling life. Jo was in the park in her hometown, lying on her back, staring up into the old oak tree. She had bullied Roberts into letting her borrow his suit jacket to use as a pillow, and now he was glaring at her from across the lawn. She had laughed at him as she danced away.

It was just as she remembered with it’s large gnarly branches lifting away from the main, sturdy trunk. She had been thinking about this tree frequently since her move to New York. Each day brought new challenges, new opportunities for her to prove herself to her peers. She saw new branches forming in her character daily, new, brightly colored leaves blooming forth.

She never made random decisions. Each approval or denial was carefully considered, with much advice from both the Allens and Turners when possible. Alex was instrumental in her decision making process. Though Jo knew everyone was there to help, none of her friends gave her unsolicited advice. They encouraged her to think on her own, and do what her mother or father would have done. Many times, that thought was all she needed.

Yes, her friends had helped her strengthen herself each day. Yet she had to look back at the oak tree. It reminded her that nothing she did or said or accomplished would mean anything, if she hadn’t had the firm root system to support her growth. Her mother had nurtured that in her, and even her father, to an extent. Because of them, she knew she had a lot to offer the world. She sincerely hoped that other people would see her like this oak tree, she thought as she stood up. Sure there was ugliness and scarring, but the tree was strong, firm, loyal, and dependable, despite its flaws. The blemishes in the tree were overwhelmed by its obvious strength.

“Beautiful,” she said aloud as she wandered back to her waiting limo and headed home.