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A couple of seeds scattered by the wind landed close enough to know each other yet far enough to grow their own way.
The maple grew tall, reaching for the sky and the elm tree became slender, burrowing roots deep into the ground. One day
the elm and the maple saw each other through the branches of their loved ones and slowly reached out until their leaves touched,
dancing in the wind. Their branches became tangled, and they found they didn't want to dance alone. In fact, they wanted
to dance closer, closer than their trunks could ever really be.
So through the hot dry summer the elm let its long branches reach for the sky where they could catch the leaves of the
maple in their gay autumn whirl, and the maple thrust its roots into the warm ground where they spread in a circle round the
roots of the elm tree.
When the spring rains charged into the forest, other trees were swept away, weakened by a winter of want, but the maple
and the elm stood tall from their tangled roots to their touching branches. When summer scorched across the land, the elm
tree and the maple stayed cool in each other's shade. Their leaves rolled together in the wisps of autumn and their roots
wound themselves around each other in the winter.
Spring sent floods and rainstorms, but the maple and the elm stood strong on their joined roots and spread the seeds of
elmaples. Through the long hot summer the elm and the maple rubbed each other's branches and wondered if their seedlings
would ever become trees. That autumn they let their leaves fall close to keep the seedlings warm. Their branches did a rhythmic
chant to keep the winter winds away. Their roots sent tiny strings of strength to feed the seedlings' souls. Spring flooded
the seedlings with love instead of rain.
Every year, more leaves fell in autumn, more seeds fell in spring. Some elmaples grew roots and branches, some were never
more than sprigs, but soon there was a small forest. People wandered by and wondered, "What kind of strange trees are
these?" The elm and maple laughed in the breeze, and their seedlings giggled and wiggled their little branches.
Sometimes Spring rushed in furiously, while other years it wandered through the forest as though it had overslept, but
it always brought mud. The trunks of the elm and the maple slipped ever closer while the elmaples seemed to slide away.
The elmaples grew strong and slender, reached for the skies and dug deep, intertwined roots.
The elm and the maple watched their forest grow and wondered if they could ever be close enough, or if their love would
always be a branch's length away. Then one ravishing Spring, the muddy ground between the elm and the maple gave way, their
trunks slid into each other, and they danced, finally one tree.
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