03/17/2026
We were asked the story of The Kissing Tree, and promised to visit the Ancient Woman of the Woods to get the story. Here it is:
THE KISSING TREE
Once upon a time, a Catalpa pod fell from its Mother into Medicine Creek. It drifted past the laughing swimmers then over the waterfalls of Bath Lake. The pod lodged under a stone before a flood came and tore it open. One of the beans found good soil near Santa's Snack Shop and sprouted. It grew straight and tall and proud in the shadow of Big Rock.
The tree was so beautiful he became very proud, and the other catalpas of the grove came to despise him. One night a storm rose to the southwest, lashing the Medicine Creek Valley. The Catalpa was so proud he refused to bend, and was thrashed violently by the storm. By morning he was bent in two places, but alive.
The other catalpas were sorry for him now and reached out to help, but could not. His damage was irreparable. Year after year he grew above the sidewalk. People would bump their head on him and curse him. He became lonely and hopeless.
One summer day, a woodland Sprite with green eyes sat next to him. “Why are you sad?”, she asked.
“You can see I am bent by the storm and everyone curses me,” he replied.
A look of concern flashed across her beautifully freckled face. She paused…
“Well, what do they know, anyway?! I think you are perfectly wonderful as you are. Look!” She pointed beneath him. “There is cool shade at noon under your trunk. The squirrels rest along your back. The birds perch easily on you.” She wove two spider web ropes and hung them from him down to a stick. She jumped to the twig and began to swing. “See!” Other trees can’t do this! The Catalpa smiled, almost laughed, but then remembered his trouble. “Thank you for trying, my friend, but even a Sprite can’t fix this.”
She patted his bark and said, “We shall see, old tree, we shall see,” and sprinted into Santa’s shop.
He could hear sawing and brush strokes all night. At sunrise she returned with a sign, hiding the words from the catalpa. She climbed up, dragging it behind her with spider web ropes glistening with morning dew and fastened it to his bent side, laughing.
He heard a couple walking their dog on the Creekwalk. He began to worry they might hit their heads and curse him or strike him as often happened. Instead they stopped and kissed, then walked under him carefully, laughing. “What magic has this Sprite done?” he wondered. All day long the scene repeated with other couples. The Catalpa was astonished.
At sunset, the Sprite returned. “How was your day?” she asked.
“Wonderful!” the Catalpa exclaimed, “but what ever did you write on the sign?”
The Sprite looked up at him, her face shining, her eyes filled with the golden light of sunset from Big Rock; “Kissing Tree,” she said with a giggle.
