Childhood Tree

Childhood Tree

Bao Dongni

21st Century Publishing Group

December 2023

28.00 (CNY)

Childhood Tree is a musical drama that unfolds the childhood stories deep within the forests of Saihanba. The characters include Xiao Lin， Da Zhu， Qing Song， San Fu， Lin Xiao， Pinecone， and others. They were born on the barren highlands， but they are children of the forest. These are the sons and daughters of the first generation of tree planters in Saihanba， and they are the same age as the first surviving trees in the area. They have witnessed the romantic， passionate youth of their parents and their legendary journey of struggle. Together with the vast “childhood trees” their parents planted， they have rooted themselves strongly in the earth， growing confidently toward the sun.

Bao Dongni

Bao Dongni is a children’s literature author， poet， and editor. She is a member of the China Writers Association， the Poetry Institute of China， and the China Science Writers Association.

Dad glanced at the distant forest， then turned back to smile gently at me and Pinecone. “Let me tell you a story from long， long ago，” he said.

At that moment， I just wanted Dad to sit with us a little longer， so I nodded eagerly.

Dad pointed into the distance， squinting his eyes as he began his tale: “Fifteen hundred years ago， the trees here were even more abundant than they are now. The grass and flowers were tall and lush， and only when the wind blew could you see the cattle and sheep.”

“Dad， isn’t that from the poem Chi Le Ge. ‘The wind blows and the grass bends low， revealing the cattle and sheep’?”

Mom had already taught us to recite the poem Chi Le Ge. Could the poem really be describing this place fifteen hundred years ago? The grass in front of us wasn’t as tall， but the flowers were already spreading across the grasslands. If we get more rain this year， the grass might grow even taller.

I thought， perhaps in the future， the grasslands of Saihanba will be just like those described in Chi Le Ge.

Dad laughed， “Ha ha， Xiao Lin， that was a good reference. Chi Le Ge is a folk song from the Southern and Northern Dynasties， dating back 1，500 years. It describes a lush grassland beneath the Yin Mountains. Saihanba isn’t far from there. the Yin Mountains are part of the central Inner Mongolian range.”

“Our Saihanba is part of the Mulan Hunting Grounds. It used to be the pastureland for the Mongol Korqin and Ongniud tribes， and this area was also known as the ‘Thousand-Mile Pine Forest，’ a paradise for birds and animals. Later， Emperor Kangxi of the Qing Dynasty established a royal hunting ground here. In autumn， the emperor would lead nobles， ministers， and the Eight Banners army here for the grand Mulan Autumn Xian.”

“What is the Mulan Autumn Xian?”

Before Dad could answer， Mom chimed in， “In ancient times， hunting in the autumn was called xian， in the spring it was called sou， in the summer it was called miao， and in the winter it was called shou. This is something I heard from your grandpa. ‘Mulan’ means deer hunting in Manchu. During the autumn hunt， the primary prey was red deer. The Mulan Autumn Xian wasn’t just about hunting; it was also a way to display military strength and protect the Qing Dynasty Empire’s borders from foreign invasion. During the hunt， before dawn， the hunters would rise early and set out. They wore antler hats， some even dressed in deerskin clothing， and mimicked the calls of deer to lure the stags， who were in their breeding season， into the hunting grounds. When the largest stag appeared， the emperor would draw his bow and shoot it down. Then， the cheers of the guards would echo through the mountains， and the noble hunters would charge into the hunting area on their galloping steeds. The red deer would panic， and rabbits， foxes， wolves， and birds would all flee in all directions. But this was a hunt， after all， so few animals within the encirclement could escape.”

“They were too cruel! How could they kill the red deer and all those small animals!” At this point in the story， little Pinecone pouted.

Mom kissed her cheek and said， “Of course， we wouldn’t hunt animals like that anymore， and we never will again. When the trees we plant grow into a vast ‘sea，’ my little Pinecone， you’ll be all grown up， and you’ll see even more animals making their homes here.”

Both Pinecone and I loved the vision Mom painted， even though we couldn’t see it yet. Just thinking about it made us feel happy.

Dad continued， “In the past， the emperor did this partly to intimidate foreign tribes. The emperor would spend some time each year at the summer palace that Xiao Lin visited， which people commonly refer to as the mountain resort. There， he would meet with Mongol nobles. On the other hand， it was also to train the Eight Banners’ soldiers， ensuring they didn’t grow too comfortable and lose their fighting skills. During Emperor Kangxi’s reign， the Mulan Hunting Grounds were still a lush and thriving back garden for the capital， full of water， grass， and abundant wildlife. But no matter how beautiful a garden is， it can’t withstand endless， careless exploitation. Two hundred years later， the sandstorms came， the water and grass disappeared， and the animals were gone too.”

“Dad， was it because the later emperors hunted and killed all the animals?” I looked out at the distant does and fawns， wondering if they might be the descendants of the red deer that survived the Qing Dynasty.

“Hunting wasn’t the main reason. The construction of the Chengde Mountain Resort that you visited， and the Old Summer Palace in Beijing， which we’ve never seen， required vast amounts of timber. During Emperor Qianlong’s reign， within just seven years， 340，000 ancient pines were cut down from the hunting grounds. Some of these ancient pines were so large that it took four people to encircle one. The number of trees cut down back then far exceeds the number of small trees we’re planting now， both in quantity and in girth.

“By the time of the Daoguang Emperor， China’s national power had begun to decline. During the Tongzhi Emperor’s reign， the government opened up Saihanba for farming to generate revenue， and they began selling timber. The forest on the plateau vanished， leaving only stumps scattered across the hillsides. Later， when the Japanese occupied Chengde， they stripped Saihanba of its remaining forest. Just a dozen years ago， there was only one tree left in the entire Saihanba.” Looking at the small trees now thriving in the wilderness， Dad fell silent.

Dad once told me that it would take three to five hundred years for these small trees to grow trees so massive that four people couldn’t wrap their arms around them. In those hundreds of years， the trees must be protected from human destruction and major natural disasters. It’s easier said than done. Growing a forest is even harder.

“Mom， are you and Dad， along with all the uncles and aunties， trying to turn Saihanba back into a sea of trees?” At that moment， it seemed like there were stars twinkling in Mom’s eyes. She smiled and nodded， looking at Dad. There were stars twinkling in his eyes too. He said， “Your Mom and I， and all the uncles and aunties at the forestry station， have a light inside us. It’s this light that brought us all together from different places. When you grow up， you’ll also encounter a light that draws you in. No matter how many mountains and rivers you have to cross， you’ll be driven to follow it.”

“Dad， what kind of light is it? Is it a bonfire? Or the stars in the sky? Or perhaps a lighthouse on the sea?” I was eager to know what it really was. Dad gazed into the distance， as if talking to himself， “It’s a bonfire that can warm a person chilled to the bone， making their heart feel cozy. It’s also the North Star in the sky， helping you find your way in total darkness. And it can be a lighthouse on the sea， seeing it gives you peace of mind， knowing someone is keeping the light on for you. It fills you with confidence and strength to overcome any challenge and move toward your destination.”

There was a light in Dad’s eyes， like the glow of a bonfire. I thought， maybe Dad is the one who can keep Mom， my sister， and me warm. I’m still young， and Mom doesn’t let me go out on my own， so I don’t need the North Star to guide my way just yet. I also don’t understand what a lighthouse on the sea would mean to me， since I’ve never seen the ocean. Dad looked at me， and maybe he knew what I was thinking. He smiled at me， then pointed at the distant deer， saying， “Xiao Lin， when you grow up， you’ll find your own bonfire， North Star， and lighthouse. For now， the flowers in front of you， the deer， and the childhood forest in the distance all belong to you. You and Pinecone can run freely across the plateau， happy and carefree every day. Although life is a bit tough and we’re not so wealthy， your Mom and I are both content. The trees we’ve planted didn’t grow in a place blessed with abundant rain， and their childhood was spent in the desert. But they didn’t worry， they rooted themselves deeply to absorb water， joyfully reaching up for the sunlight. When they grow up， this won’t be a desert anymore， and the rain will come more often. Three hundred years from now， these childhood trees will become a vast forest. Other animals will live here freely. By then， even children from the south will come here with their families for vacations. Everyone will cherish this forest， which has been lost and regained.”

As Dad spoke， we imagined the future he was describing.

Our forest， our grasslands， our ponds， our deer， our birds， our black grouse， our little wolves… Three hundred years later， they’ll still be here， and there will be even more of them. But what about us?

“Dad， three hundred years is quite a long time. We won’t be here anymore.”

Pinecone， hearing what I said， quickly asked， “What do you mean we won’t be here? Not in Saihanba? Where are we going?”

Dad kissed Pinecone on the cheek， laughing as he said， “Even if we’re not in Saihanba， we might still see Saihanba. By then， the forest will stretch for thousands of miles， maybe all the way to Beijing. By that time， Dad won’t need to plant trees anymore.”

“If Dad doesn’t plant trees， he can rest and play house with Pinecone， and we can go look for deer with antlers.”

Pinecone’s words made Dad laugh， “Exactly!”

But I didn’t laugh at Dad’s words. I knew that three hundred years from now， neither I， nor Dad， nor Mom， nor my little sister would be sitting here watching the deer.

“Maybe we should take a good look at the deer now. When autumn comes， we can come back to this spot. By then， the stags with antlers will have rejoined the herd， and we’ll be able to see many ‘branches’ moving from afar.”

“Sounds like a plan. We’ll come back in autumn，” Mom nodded at me as she stood up， slinging the flower-filled cloth bag and water bottle over her back.

“It’s getting late， So let’s go home. We’ve picked so many fresh nasturtiums today. And we’ll brew them when we get back， a nice drink to clear heat and reduce inflammation. After dinner， Mom will read to you and tell you stories， how does that sound?”

“What will Dad do after dinner?” Pinecone was still thinking about playing house with Dad.

“After dinner， Dad has to return to the Sandaohekou Forestry Station. But we’ve made a deal. When autumn isn’t too busy， Dad and Mom will bring you back to see the deer.”

We walked out of the forest and flower fields as the evening clouds spread across the sky. The crimson clouds dyed the forest red， like a red curtain falling from the sky onto the stage. Today， this beautiful scene was coming to an end.

The herd of deer quietly ran deeper into the forest.

Deer， slow down.

Deer， goodbye!