My name is Maggie and I am a big red maple tree in the center of Central Park in New York. Every part of me is 1 shaped. I love seeing all the people 2 , stare at me, and say " That tree is beautiful!" Those 3 make me feel special.
One day, I see a big storm 4 my way. I can hear all the frightening sounds nearing, but the most frightening one is the sound of almost half of my bark being torn off. I feel 5 . What will people think when they walk up to a worn-down tree in the middle of Central Park? Will they cut me down? This 6 makes my branches ache.
Hours later, when the storm 7 , a nice opossum family comes to me and asks 8 they can spend the night in one of my holes. The baby opossum is so cute that I can' t 9 . Soon, round two of the storm comes. It 10 another part of my bark, but it doesn' t 11 me as much because I have a distraction: the opossum family. Other animals see my 12 act and come to me, too. Even though I feel great for 13 all the animals, I still haven' t completely forgotten about what people might think about my 14 . Beyond all expectations, people love me even more for protecting all those animals from the terrible storm. This serves as a 15 to me that " beautiful" doesn' t always refer to looks.
