The Banyan's Shade

At the edge of the village stands an old banyan tree. Its branches spread wide, like big open arms. Long roots hang down, swaying in the breeze.

The afternoon is warm. But under the banyan, the shade is cool and deep. The leaves whisper... shhh... shhh...

First, the birds come. Little sparrows. Green parrots. Two chatty mynas. "Can we stay?" they chirp.

The banyan speaks in a slow, kind voice, like a grandparent. "Of course, little ones. Come, rest... there is room for everyone."

The birds fluff their feathers and settle in. Chirp... chirp... and then quiet.

Next, a traveller walks down the dusty road. He is tired. The sun is hot on his head. He sees the shade and smiles. He sits down against the wide trunk.

"Thank you, old tree," he says.

"Come, rest... there is room for everyone," says the banyan. A cool breeze moves through the leaves. The traveller closes his eyes for a while.

Then we come, slowly, along the path. We are tired too. We sit on the soft ground under the leaves. We rest a hand on our tummy.

The banyan bends a branch low, gently. "Welcome, dear one. And welcome, little one inside. Come, rest... there is room for everyone."

The birds sing softly. The traveller nods with a smile. We feel held, like in a big family hug.

The banyan has many branches and many roots. Each one holds the others up. Together, they make one big shade. That is how a family is.

We breathe in... and out. Under the old banyan, everyone is safe. Everyone is welcome. Everyone belongs.