write an essay on the topic 'Trees : Our best friend'
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Answer:
Trees are best friends.
Trees are our best friends. They play a very important role in our life. We can not live without them. They give us timber, paper and firewood. Timber is used in making houses, train compartments, big boxes, tools etc. Without paper life may be difficult for us. Paper is necessary for study and writing. People in villages use firewood to cook meals. They use wood to build houses, huts, carts and agriculture tools. Trees also give us food, gum and medicine. They also add to the beauty of life. Gardens can not be charming without them. We need them for oxygen and good health. Trees also help to control pollution: They absorb carbon dioxide. They improve our environment. They cause rainfall and protect water resources under the ground. They prevent floods and droughts. Therefore, we should try our best to grow more trees. Govt. and social welfare societies should start a movement. There should be awards for those persons who grow more trees.
Trees are one of the best things that mother earth has provided us. Trees give us many things. For example, trees provide us shade. Flowers give us good smell. Some climbers give us fruits. Trees like neem are medicinal trees. Butterfly loves to suck nectar from flowers. Birds make their nests on trees. The chirping of the birds in the morning is sweet to the ear. Monkeys love to jump around the trees. We play under a big mango tree. When we are hungry, one of us climbs the mango tree and plucks the sweet mangoes. When we are very tired we even sleep under the shade of this tree. It is the chirping of the birds that wakes us up. Cool breeze soothes our mind when we are sad. We study together sitting under the shade of the mango tree. Trees are indeed a gift from God. It is our duty to protect them.
Tree means a woody perennial plant, typically having a single trunk growing to a considerable height and bearing lateral branches at some distance. Trees are our best friends because they give us free living sources. They give oxygen without which we can not live more than about two minutes. Many trees are long lived. Few lives more than 1000 years. So one tree serves to about 10 generation of a family. Trees have bark surrounded on its main stem . Bark of few trees gives us paper. Tree gives us life supporting gas oxygen. Trees maintain natural balance of air by absorbing carbon di-Oxide gas.
Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.
A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.
A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.
When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.
A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.
So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.
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