Libre Magazine

On his sixth birthday, I gave my son a very beautiful book about trees.

It was stuffed with beautiful pictures of pleasant colors about trees and other plants. Very few words were included with each picture giving only the name of the tree or the plant. The book was green all over that its cover was green as well, only some red, white, and yellow flowers were scattered on some pages. My son’s book was a small one of about 8 inches long and 5 inches wide with some twenty pages.

I knew my son loved that book, for he always kept it everywhere he went. He loved its green color and its green pictures. He loved it more for it’s his birthday present. I was so happy to see my son caring for his new book. But it seems that fate has prepared something different for my son’s book than to be kept safe and sound.

My son and I used to read on the same kitchen table. I like to also work on there. One day I had to get rid of some old papers that belonged to my work, but I accidentally collected my son’s book with them. I began to throw the papers one by one into the fireplace, giving each one a last rapid look. Bored of scanning papers I’ve already decided to burn, I threw them all at one time. I didn’t see the book because it was small. I saw it only after it was half burnt.

I was horrified at seeing half of the green book turning into black ashes. I was almost paralyzed, but I managed to drag the book out. I never told my son about it. I preferred he better thinks it was lost than to know it was burnt.