Here I am, drawing 102 pictures plus the cover to save Emily.
Chapter 7
HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS
Here we are on the bus. We’re on a See the Trees field trip to White Oak Heritage Arboretum, whatever that is.
I think we should have stayed at school and had a Save Our Tree field trip on our own playground.
Or I could have stayed home to draw pictures for our plan to save Emily. I only had sixty-seven more to go.
Maybe.
Maybe if you-know-who wasn’t in our group.
I WISH that Bert really could fly—far away, like to Mars.
Or Pluto.
One of the best things about drawing pictures is I can send Bert to Pluto . . .
or make him disappear just like magic!!
I WISH.
I wish that Bert would just be quiet.
Here I am with my fingers in my ears so I wouldn’t hear Bert as we walked around looking at trees with Ranger Ann.
You’ll have to imagine everything since I can’t draw any pictures with my fingers in my ears. There was a lot to see. Big trees, little trees, green, orange, and purple trees.
Trees with bumpy bark and smooth bark and crinkly paper bark.
We saw birds, too. Remember that upside-down bird on Emily?
There were squirrels and a really weird-looking critter . . .
that wasn’t a critter. It was Einstein.
I looked.
It was Emily. Well, not Emily exactly, but a tree like her, tall and strong and reaching to the sky.
Emily was just as big and old and strong and beautiful and important as this tree.
Emily was saved!
Emily wasn’t saved. My heart sank to my knees and everything went quiet. It was funny how many sounds I had been hearing that I didn’t even notice until they stopped—the birds, the wind in the trees, the squirrels. Bert.
I looked around. Where was Bert? He had disappeared, just like I had always wished.
ALMOST.
We followed Ranger Ann.
She followed the sound past orange trees with bumpy bark . . .
and purple trees with crinkly bark . . .
and green trees with red bark.
The sound got louder and louder . . .
until we came to a clearing.
There was Bert. He was looking up at a golden tree, with his mouth wide open, but no sound coming out.
The sound was coming from up in the tree. Einstein passed me her binoculars.
Here’s what I saw:
It looked like a dinosaur. Or Bert if Bert had bright red hair and black wings.
Ranger Ann whispered . . .
We stared at the bird. It stared at Bert. Then Bert did something he’d never done before. He whispered.
The pterodactyl, I mean, the woodpecker, whispered back.
We all stood with our mouths open, but no sound coming out.
We watched one golden leaf drop from the tree, slowly swirling to the ground.
Then like magic, all the leaves fell like a golden snowstorm . . .
and the woodpecker flew away.
Bert didn’t stay quiet long.
At least he wasn’t reciting his stupid I think trees stink poem.
Chapter 8
EINSTEIN’S PLAN
Here I am waiting outside Principal Parker’s office. Yes, that’s you-know-who right beside me. He’s been wearing his hair like that since we saw the pterodactyl, I mean, the woodpecker two days ago.
Mrs. Grogan told me that Principal Parker wanted to talk to me. I’m not in trouble.
Unlike Bert who has probably spent his whole life in trouble, sitting in that chair waiting to see the principal. Well, maybe not that exact chair since he just moved here, but a chair just like it, outside a principal’s office just like Mr. Parker’s.
What is Bert in trouble for this time? Climbing Emily? Starting an acorn war? Getting lost at the See the Trees field trip? Maybe it’s for making noisy woodpecker sounds.
I shouldn’t be sitting here with Bert. I should be sitting here with Einstein.
She wrote 103 Reasons to Save Emily. She can explain how trees breathe and why Emily is irreplaceable. I just drew the pictures, not 103, but a lot.
We gave our plan to Mrs. Grogan who gave it to Principal Parker who asked to see us. Us—as in Einstein and me. But Einstein was at the dentist. I had to speak for Emily by myself.
Maybe NOT. But I had to try to save Emily. We all went into Principal Parker’s office.
I told Mr. Parker why we named a tree Emily and how magical she was in a scientific way and that if Bert hadn’t climbed . . .
If Bert hadn’t flown into that tree and started an acorn war and been rescued by Fireman Dave, then nobody would have thought Emily was dangerous. Nobody.
Mr. Parker didn’t say anything. He looked through our plan very, very slowly. Finally he looked up.
I did it! I did it! I DID IT! I saved Emily!
ALMOST.
My heart sank down into my shoes.
That wasn’t Bert, that was me.
Chapter 9
HOPE IS THE THING WITH FEATHERS, PART 2
This is the fourth day in a row that Einstein and I wore our Emily T-shirts to school. Mine had peanut butter on the front and a paw print on the back. Einstein’s looked brand new. She was sure we were on our way to saving Emily. I hoped that she was right.
I tried not to hate Lauren Winkleblinker. It wasn’t her fault that her mom was a tree chopper.
No one understood anything except . . .
Einstein understood everything. She told me the great news.
I was about to start dancing around my desk when it hit me. How could we save a 250-year-old tree in five minutes?
That didn’t make anybody happy except Einstein and me.
We followed Mrs. Grogan out to the playground and over to Emily. There were still acorns everywhere.
I told them.
Here’s everybody laughing . . .
except Einstein.
Einstein explained photosynthesis and how we need trees more than they need us.
Yes! That was me talking about science! And Mrs. Grogan talking about magic!
Mrs. Grogan showed more of the 103 reasons why Emily was so special.
And I showed them Emily’s real face, not a drawing.
Everybody laughed again, but this time it was a together kind of laughter.
Mrs. Grogan’s answer surprised me.
Then Tommy surprised me, too. He stepped forward and said . . .
Keisha surprised me, too . . .
and Jacob . . .
and Adelaide.
It sounded like poetry. Poetry for our Poet Tree!
It sounded like poetry until . . .
it sounded like Bert. NO! Not again! Did Bert climb Emily again?
Bert was right. It wasn’t him. It was the pterodactyl, I mean the pileated woodpecker, in our Poet Tree, right on top of Emily’s head.
It was like the bird had flown to our school to tell us, Save Emily!
The bird was the thing with feathers. Hope.
And now that we had hope, we had work to do! We all raced inside.
Everybody had an idea about how to help save Emily. Some kids wrote, some drew pictures, some danced. Bert sat like a quiet pterodactyl in his chair.
Here’s what I saw when I looked out the window. Do you see it? Emily is smiling!
Just kidding! Trees may eat candy for breakfast, lunch, and dinner but they only smile in your imagination.
Chapter 10
I AM EMILY
The School Board meeting room was crowded with kids and their parents. Mrs. Winkleblinker called us up first.
My knees were shaking. My dad told me . . .
But I wasn’t going to be myself.
I was going to be a 250-year-old white oak tree. A 250-year-old white oak tree with shaking knees.
Einstein was Emily, too, only her knees weren’t shaking.
Tommy and Keisha were Emily, too.
So were Adelaide, Grace, and Tristan.
Fatima, Marcus, Megan, Jackson, Ben, and Maria were all Emily.
Luis, Lailah, Jacob, Lucy, Trevon, and Lauren were Emily, too.
Even Mrs. Grogan and Principal Parker came to save Emily. Everybody except you-know-who, which was a good thing.
We all stood tall and together.
When Ranger Ann stepped forward and named Emily an official State Heritage Tree, everybody in the room cheered.
Everybody except Mrs.Winkleblinker.
It was true—Lauren could get hurt climbing Emily. But Lauren had come up with another part of our plan to save Emily. Here she is, presenting our solemn promise.
Everybody except Bert signed.
I didn’t think I’d ever want to see Bert until I saw him.
Bert was Emily’s last hope, the thing with feathers, even though pterodactyls didn’t have feathers.
Would Bert promise? I had to do something. I whispered in Bert’s ear a secret promise of my own.
It worked! This scribble is his signature.
If you can’t read his writing, here’s Bert on TV.
*Which in pterodactyl means I promise I won’t fly into Emily.
The Woodlawn School Board voted 7–1 to keep Emily.
ALMOST. Even signed solemn promises weren’t enough for Mrs. Winkleblinker.
We stopped. There was a whoosh as if everybody’s hearts had dropped to their knees. Then Mr. Parker made Mrs. Winkleblinker a secret promise of his own.
Chapter 11
WE ARE EMILY!
Here we are, the whole class, spending our recess picking up acorns. It was Mrs. Grogan’s idea, to clean up after ourselves. I don’t mind at all.
I’m going to plant some of these acorns in my own backyard and 250 years from now I’ll climb Emily Jr. and see all the way to Australia. IMAGINE!
Yes, that’s a fence around Emily. It was Principal Parker’s secret promise to Mrs. Winkleblinker. Even twenty years from now somebody like Bert won’t be able to climb Emily.
Mrs. Winkleblinker changed her vote to make it unanimous.
Painting pictures on the fence was my idea. That’s Zippy and his friends, a nuthatch, a cardinal, and . . .
a pterodactyl. Who does it look like to you?
Yes, it’s Bert.
That’s the secret promise I made, to paint him as a pterodactyl. But I put him on the side where I wouldn’t see him every day from the classroom window.
Now he’s flying high around Emily forever. Well, not too high, and maybe not forever, but for a long time.
We really did save Emily, all of us kids. Even Bert helped—maybe more than anyone else. Don’t tell him I said that. He was the one who found the thing with feathers.
Here we are, Einstein and me, sitting by Emily, outside the fence but still shielded by her strong arms. That’s Zippy throwing an acorn at us. But just one. I think he was happy to see us.
THE POEM THAT SAVED EMILY
I am Emily. I am your Poet Tree.
I turn carbon dioxide into oxygen for you to breathe.
I am Emily. I stand tall. I reach to the sky. I hold the ground for you to walk upon.
I am Emily. I clean your air. I feed your earth.
I am Emily. I was here before you. I saw you build this town and this school.
I am orange and green, red and brown. In winter, I am bare.
I am Emily. I watch over you. I shield you from wind and snow, sun and rain.
I am Emily. I am home to Zippy and his friends. I am home to cardinals and robins, nuthatches and sparrows.
I am Emily. I have a hundred arms and thousands of fingers.
I am Emily. I eat the sun. I drink the earth.
I am a street from the earth to the sky.
I am Emily.
P.S. You could add to our poem or draw pictures to go with it. Or you could write your own poem about Emily. Or any tree. Or anything. Even a pterodactyl. You probably have already figured out that Bert didn’t really fly into Emily. Look at page 37. He used Emily’s head to climb up!
About the Author
Deborah Zemke has written and illustrated many books for young readers, including the wildly successful Doodles placemat series. Her work has also appeared in several magazines. She is also the designer of the ITC Zemke Hand font. She lives in Missouri.
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The Tree and Me Page 2