Wild & Uncultivated

what tree would you be?

My mother had finally taken us to meet her grandparents. I was eight years old and my great grandparents were kind but very old and bent like the sickles they used to cut the grass. They lived on a farm that had been a monastery in the eighteenth century and the room we shared with my mother looked out to the ruin, and a cross made of stone. It was a pl…