re than the sum of its parts；” he would tell me； and then go on to
explain how the cow by itself is just a cow； and the meadow
by itself is just grass and flowers； and the sun peeking through the trees is just a beam of
light； but put them all together and you've got magic。
I understood what he was saying； but I never felt what he was saying until one day when I
was up in the sycamore tree。
The sycamore tree had been at the top of the hill forever。 It was on a big vacant lot； giving
shade in the summer and a place for birds to nest in the
spring。 It had a built…in slide for us； too。 Its trunk bent up and around in almost a plete
spiral； and it was so much fun to ride down。 My mom told
me she thought the tree must have been damaged as a sapling but survived； and now；
maybe a hundred years later； it was still there； the biggest
tree she'd ever seen。 “A testimony to endurance” is what she called it。
I had always played in the tree； but I didn't bee a serious climber until the fifth grade；
when I went up to rescue a kite that was stuck in its
branches。 I'd first spotted the kite floating free through the air and then saw it dive…bomb
somewhere up the hill by the sycamore tree。
I've flown kites before and I know—sometimes they're gone forever； and sometimes they're
just waiting in the middle of the road for you to rescue
them。 Kites can be lucky or t