The Bard's Gift (UCC Original)

A Tree's Memory

They were a rather unusual pair, if my memory serves true. You see, before they came, this village didn't take kindly to outsiders. Our garden was barren, and food was hard to come by. And the fact that I was even there was a blessing from the angels.
Yet, when they came in with nothing but the cloth on their backs and the little gnome's flute, the little ones begged to help them. See, because when they came in they were bruised and dirty, as though someone had it out for them.
So the people of this village patched them up, gave them a place to stay, and fed them what could be spared. And when it happened, I sat here, right in the middle of this place, just a wee sapling then.
The next day, the little bard and his snail stood right in front of me as they thanked the village for what they had done. Even asked for a way to repay us.
"There is no need." Our chieftess had replied. The bard had shook his head.
"But we must! To have wasted resources on us when you, yourselves are in need. What if..." He paused, his blue cap's long end still swinging. His and the snail's eyes looked over to garden, creepiest thing I have ever seen in my years. "What if we can bring your garden back?"We all laughed. After all, our land had been dying for ages. It was a miracle that _I_ hadn't withered yet. "Bring the garden back? Try if you wish, but there is no way you can."
He fixed his cap and grabbed his snail's lead. Then he walked over to the village end, right near the fork of the dirt road and he knelt down. The men started placing bets, the women gathering to watch what we thought was his undeniable failure, and the children crowding behind me waiting and wondering and chatting with awe in their voices.
He pulled his flute from his pocket and stood, placing it gently between his lips. And as he began to play, the black-shelled snail began to sing in a low baritone.
"I am just a lowly peasant
one who has begged on his knees
And has fought to be free
And now I am here
And you're with me
For a love this strong
For a love this true
And I will do it all again
If it meant I still got to meet you"
We all watched as the winds themselves change to a light green and cover our land. And then I started to tingle. And soon that tingle-ing turned to shakes as I started to grow into the tree I am today. As I watched our garden grow with all sorts of fruits and plants and more.
Once the snail's song ended, and our garden and I had grown, the bard put away his flute and turned around.
"I hope this is satisfactory." He said as he hopped onto his snail and rode off. "I bid you farewell, Villagers of Worn."
You may not believe me, but the only reason you are even able to speak to me is because of our kindness that day, so many years ago. And so, I am sorry to say, now I must bid you goodnight.