text: There lived a little boy who had a hard life. He lived with his mother, but his father had passed away some years prior. The boy was only 8 years old, but he would spend almost all of his time outside, out of the house. His mother was always so reclusive, he found it hard to be around her, and for the most part, he fended for himself. Everyday he'd go out and play around the town. Eventually, he wandered into the park, and up to a hill where a mighty tree lay. It was an apple tree Everyday after school he would come to the park, run up the hill, and hang out at the tree. He would visit this tree so much that eventually, one of the keepers of the park tied up a tire swing to the biggest branch of the tree, and the boy would spend hours swinging around as he looked down at the rest of the park below him. He visited the tree and the park everyday, until one day, he hadn't visited for a good four years. He and his mother had moved house, because she couldn't stand to be reminded of the house her and her once-husband had grown to build their life in. They lived off in another town for some years before eventually, she found it far too hard to be away from the house he had built her and her son's life in, and they moved back. Finally back in his old town, the boy returned to the park, and returned to the hill. To his surprise, the tire swing was still proudly hung from the tree. But also to his surprise, there was an old man there, sitting at the base of the tree, cutting an apple into slices with a dull pocketknife. The boy was confused, granted he'd never seen anyone else up here. He approached the man. The man offered the boy a fond expression, handing him a piece of apple and beckoning him to sit down. The boy complied, examining the man's appearance. He looked almost homeless, tired and dishevelled, but he looked clean, and as if he were in good spirits. The man glanced at the boy, then up at the sky. The sun was beginning to descend beyond the hills. He then began to speak. "One day, you will lose everything you came to know. But you mustn't dwell, you must take your memories and cherish them as you start anew." He said. The boy seemed confused, being only 12, but he nodded contently, accepting the man's word. Once the sun was almost fully set, the boy ran off home. The cycle continued for days. The next day, he ascended back up the hill, the man sitting in his usual spot, with another apple. Again, he offered the boy a slice and a seat. Once more, just like before, the man spoke to the boy. "One day, you will lose everyone close to you. Not to weep, though, for you must cherish their memory and rebuild yourself from the ground up." Again, this left the boy confused, but he nodded understandingly. Like clockwork, the sun set and the boy returned home. Soon, they moved again, as the boy's mother's job was not paying well enough. They moved two states over, and she got a new job. They lived there for the rest of her life, before she too, died at a young age, due to complications following heartbreak. The boy, now 20, moved back to his old home, in his own town. He visited the park again. He climbed the hill, and to his surprise, there was the swing, still hung high in the tree, as well as the old man, underneath with an apple and his ever duller knife. Both the rope holding the swing, and the old man, looked old and weathered, so frail the boy worried that a single touch would make them both crumble. The man, however, looked to be in just as good spirits as ever. The man offered the boy an apple slice, his hand trembling slightly as he did, weak with old age. The boy took the slice and sat with the man, who stared wistfully off into the distance. "It's good to see you again, boy." Was all he said. The boy nodded. "You as well. Have you any advice for me?" He asked. The man shook his head. "None but what I've told you before. When all is lost, do not weep, begin anew." The boy nodded. The sun had set fully, and it had grown dark, so the boy went home. He visited the park the next day, hoping to see the man, but no one was there, to his surprise. So, he returned home, and for a while, he didn't return to the park. A year later, the boy returned to the park, and returned to the hill, only to see the tree had been reduced to naught more than a weak stump. The tire swing had long since fallen, grown into the ground, the rope that once held it rotted away. On the stump sat a woman, who easily could have been in her 80's. The boy approached her, and she looked at him expectantly. "My husband told me you'd be here." She said. Was this the old man's wife?, he thought. "He hadn't much time left in him. He wanted me to give you this." She said, handing the boy an apple. The boy looked confused. "He told me to tell you not to mourn his loss. Plant the seed, grow anew." She said, before getting up, her weakened body trembling slightly as she did so, and she walked away. The boy listened to her, honouring the wishes of the old man he had befriended, and planting the seed. For years, the boy would return to the park everyday as the old stump rotted away, and the new sapling eventually grew to replace the tree that used to be there. The boy was now, too, an old man, in his 60's. He sat beneath the tree, staring out at the dusky sky. He had an apple in his hand as he watched a young boy walk up to him, an even younger boy trailing close behind. They walked up to him, looking at him with curiosity. The man, once a boy, offered the apple to the youngest of the boys and offered them both to sit. They did. The man sighed wistfully, and looked at the boys. "One day, all will seem lost. You'll lose the people and things that mean most to you. One day. But you cannot weep, you must cherish the memories and use that to start new, build yourself back from the ground up." The boys looked confused, but they nodded. The sun started to set, and they went home. As they left, the man looked up at the tree he'd grown, curiosity in his eyes. "Was that what you had been trying to prepare me for all along? To repeat the cycle anew?" He asked, but of course, he got no answer. But the breeze blew the leaves in such a way they made a rustling that could almost be taken as a response, and the man accepted it as such. He smiled to himself and leaned back against the tree.