Birdie's Book Read Online Free Page A

“Of course, it’s an English oak!” She stared up at the treeherself for a few moments. “I’ve always just called it the Glimmer Tree.”
    â€œHow come?” I asked.
    â€œMy grandmother named it that,” Mo replied. “I used to climb it, and so did your mother when she was little.”
    We stood silently as the tree’s powerful limbs rustled in the wind, casting shadows against the pale pink background of the December sky. Suddenly I couldn’t help but wrap my arms around the huge trunk, as far as I could reach. The tree somehow made everything seem safe and good and, well, like everything would be okay, even if things felt hard now.
    â€œYour mother loved this tree,” said Mo, as if hugging a tree was the most natural thing in the world. “She thought Glimmer was a perfect name, and she always said the sun made its leaves glimmer like stars.”
    â€œSeems awfully poetic for the Mom
I
know,” I said, running my fingers along one of the tree’s many knotholes.
    â€œWell, loving trees is a family thing,” said Mo. “Hard to shake, even for someone like your mother. My grandmother, who was your great-great-grandmother Dora, was an arborist, a tree girl witha wild and colorful imagination. You have the gift, too,” Mo said with a wink.
    I made my way to the tree’s other side and hugged again. My face rested on a spot that felt oddly mushy. I reached up and wiped the snow off. There was a large section of bark that was soft compared to the rest, as if it were rotting or sick or something.
    â€œLook at this, Granny Mo!” I exclaimed. “I think the tree might be sick!”
    She came to my side and felt the area, nodding slowly, her mouth oddly pinched. “Yes, I’ve been worried about that,” she said sadly. She sighed. “It started years ago, Birdie. It was just a tiny patch, but it has been growing worse year by year. The damage goes deeper than what you see.”
    â€œYes, it probably goes down to the roots, Granny Mo,” I said.
    â€œExactly,” she agreed. “The roots. We’ve inherited the job of taking care of all green life. We sing the green song. And you are the strongest member of the Arbor Lineage now, Birdie. It’s up to you.”
    I got a shiver up and down my spine, and it wasn’t from the cold.
    â€œMe?” I asked. “What are you talking about? What do I have to do with the Glimmer Tree rotting?”
    â€œWell, to tell you the honest truth—everything,”said Mo. “You didn’t cause it, but you do have the power to heal it. You have the gift, Birdie, in spades.”
    I started wondering about Mo’s crazy streak and was relieved when a fluffy Siamese cat trotted out from behind the Glimmer Tree. He rubbed against Mo’s boot.
    â€œAh, there you are, Willowby. You’re hungry, eh?” said Mo. “He loves to hide in the ferns out here in the summer … a whole world of ferns around the base of this tree.” She picked him up and growled in his face, then looked at me. “But summer or winter, he’s a cranky old cat when he wants to eat. You’ll have to forgive his rude behavior for now. Come on, let’s head home.”
    Mo led the way back, me and Willowby right on her heels. Mo was silent on the way, though she waited patiently for me to cross the bridge again. I decided not to mention the odd things she’d said. She was clearly a unique person, but I wasn’t sure I was ready for her to be quite so … weird.

    My fingers, toes, and nose felt like icecubes by the time we got back. Granny Mo and I settled into two comfy chairs in her living room (no TV in sight) and had dinner right in front of the fire, warming our feet while we ate. After all that walking in the cold, Mo’s tomato soup with fresh basil and burnt croutons was the most delicious meal I had ever had. Antiques crammed the fireplace