Remember the Mighty Oak

	An oak tree is a very strong object of nature, but sometimes even the
 mighty oak will fall.  This is a story of one such oak tree.  Colossal in size, it stood
 one hundred feet tall.  The branches spanned at least fifty feet across with a thick
 trunk and even thicker bark.  It was not a small oak by any means
                 The oak had many friends that surrounded him all around. Though these
 trees were sizable they were not as big as the "Mighty Oak", or were they?
	It was a beautiful autumn day in the forest.  Birds were singing, deer were
 frolicking, squirrels were playing their own version of tag, and there was not one
 cloud in the sky.  Nothing to foretell about what terrible event which would take
 place.
	The mighty oak was feeling particularly proud of himself today, being the
 biggest and strongest.  He was feeling so proud that the monolith of nature felt like
 he didn't need his companions to make him happy.  They were below him.  He was
 as big as a house.  The "saplings", as the oak tree was fond of calling them, were
 no bigger than the pine trees up to the north.  As a product of the oak's egotistical
 insincerity, he isolated his friends and made them feel inferior to his seniority.
	Now you must feel sympathy for the smaller oaks.  It was not their fault
 they were sprouted late in the season.  It wasn't their fault they were dwarfed,
 compared to the might oak of course, but all was for naught.  The oak discarded
 their friendship like the wind blows the leaves on an autumn day.
	Suddenly and without warning, clouds gathered high above the forest of
 oaks.  Dark menacing clouds ready to strike anything that questioned its wraith.
	Abruptly there was a flash of bright, blinding light.  Immediately following
the light was an earth shattering thunder blast.  The blast sounded like a mountain
 losing its footing and tumbling down to the earth's crust.
	It all happened so fast that the might oak had no time to think what was
 going on.  He knew something was terribly wrong but he could not see from what
 seemed to him like a fog but with different odors than a fog.  Danger was imminent.
  The air had suddenly became unseasonably warm.  Rain pouring down as if the
 oceans had opened up above them.  Huge fat raindrops that could have filled a
 bucket in no time came down with extinguishable fury
	Then as suddenly as the storm appeared above the forest it was gone,
 exposing the bright sun ready to dry the land off like a towel after a long shower.
 The fog had dissipated and the might oak looked around to his horror the whole
 forest was burnt to the ground; save the mighty oak.  Now you would think the
 Mighty Oak would be happy that he was spared, but the awful truth was that the
 once mighty oak was now weak with loneliness.
	He had not felt such complete loneliness in his entire existence on earth.
 He felt a great disturbance in his roots.  He put it off as nothing and died silently at
 the age of two hundred and forty-nine years.  At the very moment the oak died
 hundreds of tiny oaks sprouted out of the ground into the bright sun, 

This must have been the punishment for the Mighty Oak's pride.  To die lonely
and miserable like most of us do.

                 By:  Dustin Kastrevec
Age: 15