 Family Theatre presents Mona Freeman and Jean Lockhart. From Hollywood, the Mutual Network in Cooperation with Family Theatre presents Jean Lockhart in The Story of Little Tree. To introduce the drama, your hostess, Mona Freeman. Thank you, Tony LaFranco. Family Theatre's only purpose is to bring to everyone's attention a practice that must become an important part of our lives if we are to win peace for ourselves, peace for our families, and peace for the world. Family Theatre urges you to pray. Pray together as a family. Tonight, Family Theatre takes great pleasure in presenting The Story of Little Tree, starring Jean Lockhart as grandpa. The creek I was telling you about. The hurry! Hold on a minute now, Betty. That creek isn't going anywhere. It'll still be there whether we run or walk. Yeah, but running's more fun. It depends on your age. Right now, it'd be fun for me to sit down. Rest a bit. How old are you anyway, Grandpa? I'm old enough to know better. No better than to take any of these Sunday hikes with you, young lady. Now, where is this brook you were telling me about? Right over here. See, just over this bank. Oh, yes. Well, what a perfect spot to rest. What? Rest again? Again? Well, when did we rest the first time? Well, you were talking about it just a minute ago. Well, suppose we do it this time. This looks like a good place. Now, this is more like it. Grandpa, can I wade in the water? You better not today, Betty. You remember, we had to promise your mother we'd be careful not to mess up your good clothes. Shucks, why does everyone have to get all dressed up just because it's Easter? Well, this is a very special day, Betty. People dress up because they're glad it's Easter. I'm not glad. I'd rather go wading. Well, you ought to be glad. Why, even nature gets all dressed up for this occasion. Oh. Why, yes, just look around you. Flowers are all budding, beginning to bloom. The grass is green for the first time this winter. And the trees are full of young leaves. I sped it. Nature knows it's Easter. Oh, how could grass or trees know about Easter? My honey, a tree probably knows more about Easter than any living thing. You mean this big tree here knows it's Easter? That's right. Well, just look at it. See all those little leaves? They all face upwards towards the sun. Do you know why they turn that way? Our teacher says they turn up so they can get the sun. Well, she's correct. They need the sunshine to grow. And there's another reason, too, if you'd care to hear. Oh, yes. You just settle down beside me here and I'll tell you how a tree knows about Easter. Is this a true story, Grandpa? Well, you won't find it written in any history book, but nobody said it didn't happen this way. Well, this is about a tree that lived many, many years ago in a land that's quite away from where you and I are sitting now. Like any other tree, this little fella sprouted from a tiny seed and began to grow. He could hardly wait for the day when he'd be able to push his head up out of the ground. So the little tree rested and gathered his strength for the big day. And finally, he felt he could make it. So bracing himself on his tiny roots, he gave a mighty push and he popped out of the ground like a jack in the box. For a few minutes, the bright sunlight dazzled the young tree, but when he got used to it, he looked around. Oh, he was so pleased. He was growing on top of a hill with a wonderful view of the countryside. And not far away, he could see a small town and nearby, a high road running into the town. And he started to look into the other direction when suddenly he was startled by a voice that boomed out. Hello there, little tree. He looked up quickly and there, towering above him just a few yards away, was a huge tree smiling down on him. Gee, you must be a thousand feet tall. No, not quite, I'm afraid. I figure I'm only about 40 feet. But that's high enough, I guess, for I'm good and strong and that's what really counts. Will I ever grow as tall as you? I sure you will, before you know it too. Just get plenty of sunshine and send your roots down deep and get lots of nourishment from the earth. Oh, I will. I'll do anything you say because I want to grow up and be big just like you. Good, I'll teach you everything I know and do all I can to help you get a good start. And the big tree was as good as his word. He told his young friend everything a young tree ought to know. He told him how to begin keeping his diary, as all trees do, by making a mark around his trunk. You mean that all us trees keep a diary? Why, I never heard of such a thing. I daresay there are a lot of things you never heard of, my little friend. But how do you do it? And why? Oh, it's easy enough to do. You just make a mark in the wood of your trunk, recording the year's events. These form rings that stay with you forever. For the rings, they can tell how much you've grown during a year. They can tell if there's been lots of rain during a year or if it's been dry and... well, most everything that anyone would want to know about you. Gee, there's more to this growing business than just standing here, isn't there? Yes, but you'll catch all all right. Besides, I'll be here to help you if you ever need it. Gee, thanks, friend tree. You've helped me a lot already. I hope I can remember all the things I'm supposed to. Well, the days went by, and little tree grew like a weed. By now, he was almost six inches high, and the big tree looked after him like a mother. Every night, he'd keep watch over his little friend until little tree was asleep, and then the big tree, too, would relax and fall asleep. But one night, while he was sleeping, a great storm broke over the land. Rain spilled over the hilltop as if dumped out of giant buckets, and little tree woke with a start and was seized with panic. He could feel himself being torn from the earth by the rushing waters, and he still was quite young, you see, and his roots weren't deep enough or strong enough to hold him against the torrents of water, and little tree called frantically to his friend. Help! Help, friend tree! Please help me! But the big tree was sound asleep. He enjoyed a good rainstorm, and to him, the wind and the rain were like a lullaby, and then a howling gust of wind swept over the hill, bending little tree almost to the ground, and as he straightened up, he shouted once more with all his might. Help! And this time, his big friend heard him and looked down. He saw the danger, and he quickly drew some of his biggest branches into position over little tree, forming a great umbrella to shield him from the driving rain. Old-time little tree, you'll make it! And he shouted over the storm, No, no, don't try to fight the wind. Sway with the wind. Sway with it, like me. Watch me. See? Sway with it. This is much better. That's it. You'll make it all right now. The storm is done. Boy, that was a close one, all right? Guys, I've never been so scared in all my life. Yes, I believe you were. While you turned white as a birch tree. Well, it didn't take long for little tree to recover from the storm, and his time passed. He developed into a beautiful tree. Actually, he wasn't such a small tree anymore, but his big friend still called him little tree, and the name seemed to stink. As he grew up, little tree began to think more and more of what might happen to him, when he would be of value as lumber. And he and the big tree would wonder about it by the hour. Yes, I've been thinking about it for years, little tree. I'd like to be made into an ox cart and travel about the country. I'd like to see what's beyond those hills in the distance. I can't decide what I'd like to do. You know, being made into an ox cart would be kind of fun at that. Yeah. I hope you get your wish, old friend. Well, I have hopes. See that rickety old ox cart coming along the road there now? Gee, it looks like it's about ready to fall apart. That's what I mean. That man has had that old cart for almost 20 years, and now he's ready for a new one. The last time he used the lumber of Martha Fir Tree to live down in the valley there. Her lumber was never too good, though. Poor Martha always did have knotty limbs. But why do we have to be cut on and made of something at all? Why can't we just keep growing here like we are? Well, maybe we will. You see, little tree, I believe that everything on earth is put here for some reason. Now, maybe it's meant for us to just grow here and furnish a nice shady resting place for the people traveling along that road. Or maybe we'll be made into something. But everything has a purpose in being here. Shucks. Then what good are those pesky little bugs that bother us all the time? Well, now, don't forget that while they annoy us, they're food for the birds. Yes. I guess you're right, as usual. Well, the big tree got his wish sooner than he expected. For a few weeks later, the man who owned the old ox cart came there with saws and axes to cut down the big tree. At last, he was going to be made into something to help people. Little tree was sorry to lose his friend, but the big tree was so happy that little tree found himself feeling happy, too. Well, goodbye, old friend. I'll wave to you every time you pass by the roadway. Goodbye, little tree. Take good care of yourself. Maybe I'll see you in a big building somewhere. Goodbye. And the man hauled the big tree away toward the town, and little tree was left alone on the hill. Well, the years went by, and little tree became a familiar landmark on the hilltop. By now, he'd grown quite large, and the people of the town always stopped to rest in the cool shade he'd cast for them. He was happy, but he felt that he was performing a useful service in offering a shady rest haven for the travelers along the road. And then, one quiet night, a strange thing happened. Little tree was awakened from his sleep by an odd sound. It seemed that he could hear music, and yet it was music such as he'd never heard before. It was almost as if the angels themselves were singing. And then, looking upward, he saw the brightest star that ever shone, lighting up the heavens. Little tree's leaves were as a thousand eyes, and he turned them all to watch. The star seemed to cast a light down on one small village some distance away. He'd heard people speak of the village. It was called Bethlehem. Little tree didn't know or understand what had happened this night, but a wonderful calm seemed to settle over the land which made him feel that all was right with the world. Well, Betty, the years went happily on for little tree. By this time, he was a full-grown, beautiful tree. His trunk was hard, and his limbs firmed. And his leaves were the greenest of any tree for miles around. Oh, he was happy, but he still couldn't help wondering if he would ever be cut down and made into something useful. I guess it's natural to want to be something other than what you are. It's nice here on this hilltop. I have everything I need, but I don't know. I'd still like to be made into something really useful. Maybe a bridge to carry people across some great river, or maybe a huge temple somewhere, and then too it would be nice to be made into an ox cart like my old friend and get to travel all over the country. But I wouldn't care what it was. Just as long it was something to help people. Oh, well, maybe someday my turn will come. But men seemed quite content to let little tree continue his duties as a shade tree. Every day dozens of people would stop to rest beneath his limbs. Then one day a small group of men stopped to rest in the shade under his branches. This was a common occurrence, but somehow little tree was attracted to one of the travelers. He was dressed as any other man, but there was something in his face, something about his quiet manner that set him apart from the other men. And of all the hundred who had stopped to rest at his feet, this man was the very first to ever pause to admire little tree and to remark on what a fine tree he was. He watched them as they talked, and when they finally moved on down the road, he thought about them long after they'd gone, and he thought especially about the one with the kind face. One evening, as little tree was preparing to settle himself for the night, he saw a great storm gathering in the distance. Huge black clouds had already blotted out the sun, and the wind swished through his branches, warning the birds to take cover. This looks like a real storm. So little tree thought to himself. Oh well, storms don't frighten me anymore. I just hope it doesn't blow so hard that it keeps me awake all night. The storm came up quickly, thunder boomed, and lightning lit up the sky, and suddenly, at the height of the storm, a streak of lightning seared its way from a cloud and struck little tree with a mighty crash. He was stunned. His trunk was split. Split almost in two by the blast. He felt the burn to the very tip of his roots, and when he was able to move again, he gathered all his strength and tried to hold himself together to last out the storm. He knew he could do nothing to repair the damage until morning. He was too weak, and gradually the storm died away, and morning dawned over a clear sky. All the earth was wet and fresh in glistening. It was a lovely day, but little tree couldn't enjoy it. He looked at himself in misery. His trunk was split. Split by a charred black hole, and the burn still ached all through him. Oh, if only someone would bind up my trunk with a rope or something to close that terrible gap. I know it would heal. Won't someone please help me? But no one offered to help little tree, and as the weeks became months, little tree grew weaker and weaker. His leaves began to wither and drop away until his once beautiful foliage was all but gone. Little tree began to give up all hope of ever recovering. No one seemed to care whether he lived or not. One evening toward dusk, little tree noticed a lone man approaching along the road. Even in the twilight, he recognized him at once. It was the man with the kind face who had admired him that day so long ago. He seemed weary and troubled, and he slumped to the ground to rest. Little tree watched as the man did a strange thing. He rose to his knees, turned his face toward the heavens, closed his eyes as if he were sleeping, and yet little tree knew he wasn't asleep. And so, all through the night, he watched him puzzled. Just before dawn, the man arose and prepared to leave, but then he seemed to notice little tree for the first time, and he looked at him for a long while. Little tree wished that he could make himself disappear, for he imagined the man must be remembering what a beautiful tree he was when they last met. As he watched, the man placed his hands over the charred hole in the tree trunk. Little tree felt completely relaxed for the first time in months, and as his visitor walked away toward the town, he fell fast asleep. The next morning, he awoke with a start, a great crowd, a crowd of people had gathered around him. They were looking at him and pointing, and little tree looked at himself to see why he was so suddenly such an oddity, and then he looked again. Ah! Oh, it was amazing! He was exactly as he had been before the storm. His trunk was whole, and all his leaves were there. Everything about him was just as it had been in his most beautiful days. He listened to the people on the road. Yes, and little tree agreed. It was indeed a miracle, and so life was happy once again for little tree, and he became the popular landmark on the hilltop once more, with passersby always stopping to rest in his shade. Yet somehow, in spite of his own happiness, there was an easy tension in the air. Little tree couldn't understand it. People stood about in small groups, muttering to themselves and arguing. One day, several men with saws stopped before little tree and began to look at him from all sides. Little tree thought surely his big day had come at last, and he shouted to the birds in his branches, At last, at last, I'm going to be made into something. Oh, and it'll be something wonderful. I just know it will. But instead of setting their saws in his trunk, the men climbed into his branches, and they sawed off one of his biggest limbs and carried it away with them. Little tree was perplexed. He couldn't understand. He couldn't understand what they would want to make with just one limb. He wondered about it all that evening, and the next day it was still puzzling him when he noticed a large procession coming along the road. There were many soldiers and hundreds of men and women, and as they drew nearer, the bark about his trunk stiffened, and he stood still as stone for there, leading the procession, was the man with the kind face. Then little tree knew what had happened to his limb. It had been used to make a wooden cross. Time and again the man stumbled and fell under the weight of the great cross. The mob threw stones and made fun of him. Here, master. Here, let me help you. Here, there. Away with you. Please, it's too heavy for one man. Let me help him. He needs no help. He is king. He is God, or so he says. Let him call forth his angels if he needs help. I'll ride along with you, king. We haven't all day for this business. Come. Maybe a few more stones will hurry him along. As little tree watched the procession reach the top of the next hill, he could scarce believe his eyes. He saw three crosses, and on one of them, they had nailed the man with the kind face. Little tree knew this must surely be the ugliest day in all the world's history. For the first time in his life, little tree cried. He cried until all his leaves were wet from the tears. And soon all the trees in the world heard what had happened, and they cried too, for they all knew of the wonderful thing the man had done for little tree. And the willow tree shed such great tears. They made its leaves droop to the ground where they have stayed even to this day. And then what happened, grandpa? Betty, for two whole days, not a bird sang, not a leaf stirred on a tree, not a cricket chirped. It was as if the whole earth were dead. But on the morning of the third day, ah, that morning was different. Little tree could feel it from the moment he awoke. The birds were singing. The sunshine was warm. The world was suddenly happy again. And then later he knew why it was happy. For there, walking along the road, with his faithful little band of followers, was the man the crowd had nailed to the cross? The man called Jesus. Little tree was so happy. He waved his branches in the wind, and his leaves all danced with joy. He has come back. He lives. He lives. Little tree watched as the men stopped beside him. And they listened as the man with the kind face spoke to them for a long time. And then, as he spoke, he began to drift gently upward from the earth into the sky. Little tree turned all his leaves up to watch this amazing thing. And he suddenly had a feeling the man was leaving, leaving never to return. And he cried out after him. Please, please don't go. Though he knew the man would never be able to hear him, a tree speak, and yet somehow the man did seem to hear. For he turned to little tree and said, Keep watch for me, little tree. For someday I shall return. And with that, he drifted further upward into the sun until he seemed to be lifted into heaven itself. And little tree did keep watch. Each day he would turn all his leaves upward toward the sun and follow it closely from dawn to sunset. And soon all the other trees on earth heard of what had happened, and they too turned their leaves upward, keeping watch with little tree. And so it is that even today every tree turns its leaves upward toward the sun, keeping watch as little tree first did centuries ago. Like the little tree in our story tonight, we all like to feel we can be useful and helpful. And one of the great joys in life is knowing that we're useful and helpful in an undertaking that's worthwhile. None of us can be happy if we live only for ourselves because the job of living comes from giving. Yes, giving ourselves to something we know is bigger and better, worthier and more enduring than we are. That's why the greatest joy in living is giving ourselves to God. When a family joins together to give themselves to God in family prayer, they are united in a joy and happiness that only family prayer can bring. I guess we all know from experience that it's true. Whatever we give to others comes back to us in some way or another. And whatever we give to God comes back a hundredfold. So let's give God a little time in our homes each day. Let's take a little time out to join together with our family for family prayer. Then we'll really know how true it is that the family that prays together stays together. More things are wrought by prayer than this world dreams of. This series of Family Theater broadcasts is made possible by the thousands of you who felt the need for this type of program. By the Mutual Network, which has responded to this need. And by the hundreds of stars of stage screen and radio who have so unselfishly given of their time and talent to appear in our Family Theater stage. To them and to you, our humble thanks. This is Tony Lofrano expressing the wish of Family Theater that the blessing of God may be upon you and your home and inviting you to join us next week at the same time when Family Theater will present Charles Colburn and Giggy Perot in a pot and for tippy. Join us, won't you? Family Theater is broadcast throughout the world and originates in the Hollywood studios of the world's largest network. The Mutual Broadcasting System.