“Aw, Mama,” I said, “I was safe. Why, I backed way off to one side. It couldn’t have fallen on me.”
Mama just shook her head. “I don’t know,” she said.
“Some times I wonder if all mothers have to go through this.” “Come on,” Papa said, “I’ll help you skin it.”
While we were tacking the hide on the smokehouse wall, I asked Papa if he had noticed any wind blowing that evening.
He thought a bit and said, “No, I don’t believe I did. I’ve been out all day and I’m pretty sure I haven’t noticed any wind. Why did you ask?”
“Oh, I don’t know, Papa,” I said, “but I thought something strange happened down in the bottoms this afternoon.”
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” said Papa. “What do you mean, ‘something strange happened’?”
I told him about how my hands had gotten so sore I couldn’t chop any more, and how I had asked for strength to finish the job.
“Well, what’s so strange about that?” he asked. “I don’t know,” I said, “but I didn’t chop the big tree down.
The wind blew it over.” “Why that’s nothing,” Papa said. “I’ve seen that happen a lot of times.”
“It wasn’t just the wind,” I said. “It was the way it blew. It didn’t touch another tree in the bottoms.
I know because I looked around. The big tree was the only one touched by the wind.
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