Memories Under the Dogwood Tree

In the heart of Joenkhar Pry School, there stood a majestic Dogwood tree that was everyone's favorite. This venerable tree held court at the center of our little world, its branches reaching out in every direction like the welcoming arms of a loving guardian. It was a tree that had witnessed countless seasons, and its enduring presence had become an integral part of our school's history.

Throughout the year, the Dogwood tree displayed its unique charms. In the spring, it burst into a riot of colorful flowers, a breathtaking sight that could rival any natural wonder. But it was during the scorching summer months that the tree truly became a source of delight for both birds and students alike. Its branches bore succulent fruits that tasted like the essence of sunshine itself, and we couldn't resist their allure.

Under the guise of innocent play, we devised all sorts of schemes to bring those fruits within our grasp. Sticks were thrown, balls were kicked, and sometimes we even resorted to elaborate strategies to make the ripest fruits fall. We giggled and plotted, using every trick in the book to outwit both our fellow students and the vigilant teachers who patrolled the school grounds.

It wasn't uncommon for us to receive stern reprimands for our fruit-snatching escapades. Our teachers, wise to our antics, knew that the fruits were off-limits until they were fully ripened. But the rush of excitement, the sweet taste of triumph, and the sense of unity to exist alongside the tree made it all worthwhile.

The peak of our joy, however, came when our principal chose to share the bounty of the Dogwood tree with us. We'd eagerly gather beneath its sprawling branches, our eyes fixed on the tantalizing fruits hanging just out of reach. With a commanding voice, our principal would call upon the elder boys, who would then ascend the tree and shake its branches with vigor.

The fruits rained down upon us like nature's blessings, pelting our heads, shoulders, and outstretched hands. In our traditional Bhutanese Gho attire, with its large pouch-like space to store treasures, we showcased our skills in fruit collecting. It was a competition in which we eagerly participated, our laughter filling the air as we scrambled to gather as many fruits as we could.

The Dogwood tree bore witness to countless scenes of both rivalry and camaraderie. Sometimes, our quest for the fruits led to playful skirmishes and wrestling matches under its leafy canopy. Other times, it was a place of refuge, where we sought solace from the rigors of school life, sharing stories and dreams.

There came a time when it seemed that the beloved Dogwood tree might meet its demise. A construction project to extend the football ground encroached upon its base and the tree was left battered and wounded. We feared its life, but it proved its resilience, rallying against the odds to thrive once more.

Before the arrival of the World Food Programme (WFP), our cherished Dogwood tree had a role that extended far beyond the provision of fruits and shade. It was not merely a guardian of our childish fruit-stealing escapades; it was a silent sentinel that watched over our lives in a myriad of ways.

During lunchtime, it took on the responsibility of safeguarding our pack-lunch bags from prying hands and curious eyes. The branches of the tree formed a natural canopy, protecting us from the scorching sun's relentless rays and the unpredictability of heavy showers that often graced our school days.

Under that benevolent tree, we shared our deepest secrets, whispered our prayers, and confided our hopes and dreams. Its rustling leaves seemed to listen, offering solace and a sense of security in our youthful confessions.

The tree was a silent observer of the ebb and flow of our fortunes. It witnessed the highs and lows of students' lives, from academic achievements to the occasional misadventures. It stood steadfast as a witness to the changing tides of our existence, a silent companion to every student who sought its shelter.

Life's profound moments unfolded under the watchful eyes of the Dogwood tree. It bore witness to the circle of life, from the laughter of children playing beneath its branches to the somber moments of mourning for beloved teachers and fellow students who passed away. It felt the weight of our collective grief and the strength of our shared memories.

Through the passage of time, our beloved Dogwood tree endured it all—the joys, sorrows, secrets, and prayers of generations of students. Its weathered branches and steadfast roots became a testament to the resilience of nature and the enduring spirit of our school community.

As we grew and moved on to new chapters in our lives, the Dogwood tree remained a silent guardian, a faithful friend, and a timeless symbol of the enduring bonds that connected us to our past. In its presence, we found comfort, solace, and a reminder that some things, like the memories we created under its branches, were meant to last a lifetime.

Today, that Dogwood tree stands as a living testament to the memories and experiences of generations of students who have passed through Pry School. It continues to grace the school courtyard with its vibrant flowers and bountiful fruits, a symbol of enduring strength and the cherished moments we shared beneath its branches. The legacy of the Dogwood tree lives on, an indelible part of our school's history, and a reminder of the happiness, friendship, and occasional mischief it brought into our lives.