"Look, "I said to my friend Mandy, holding up thebright-red paper. "There's a five-day art camp this summer. "
Mandy took the paper and looked at it. "Tessa, youshould go. You're the artist. I am not. "
"You can learn with me. "I said in an encouragingvoice. "I really didn't want to go alone."
Mandy smiled, "I tried, but my little brother thoughtthe corns I painted were rockets."
Late, I called my other friends, but none of them could gowith me. Disappointed, I decided to go outside to draw the Westons' pine tree. Drawingalways made me feel better. On the way, I thought about the art camp and wishedI felt a little braver. Mandy could make friends with others in 10 minutes, butI was embarrassed when there were no familiar faces around me. By the time Iarrived there, I had made myself believe that I was happy to give up going tothe camp.
I took out my pencils and started drawing the strong trunkof the pine. Once I started, I didn't notice the fly buzzing around me. That'swhy I jumped when Mr. Weston talked behind me, "You've done a great jobshowing the strength of that tree. ""Thanks. "I smiled. Mr. Westoncontinued, "I've planted pine trees before. You have to spread out theroots near the surface so the tree can get enough water and grow tall. If youplant the root ball too deep, the tree dries up and dies. Roots grow out, notdown. "
Now I noticed the roots all around the tree. I'd neverrealized how far a tree's roots stretch(延伸)outward. It made me think about the artcamp and my own roots. I was planting myself into one deep spot because it feltsafer. If I wanted to grow, I had to start reaching out too.
That night, I made my final decision. I felt nervous butexcited. "I am stretching my roots out into new earth so I can grow",I thought. "I am the pine".
