My Name Is . . . 2

At first, we all looked the same, but from some time, we started to look different. Mr. Zelkova told me that the sapling next to me is a maple tree.

“Wow, how do you know just by looking at his leaves?”

“Anyone can tell right away. His leaves are maple tree leaves. Maple trees grow thicker and thicker and make the whole autumn forest colorful. If he keeps growing, everybody will want to come and see him.”

Ever since I learned the role of the maple trees from Mr. Zelkova, I started to think about myself, ‘What am I going to be when I grow up? What will my role be?’

Not only the maple tree, but all the other friends began to have their own names one after another. I learned that the willow tree was born with a mission to be a resting place for animals, and that the ginkgo tree was going to make a colorful autumn forest together with the maple tree. I also learned about the rose, which is the flower of the flowers, and about the balsam which would hold so many seeds in the fall, and also about the quince tree which would have so many fragrant fruits soon. It wasn’t only those trees and flowers that had their own names; even little plants that didn’t look so significant had names such as bracken fern, shepherd’s purse, clover, dandelion, and so on. I was the only one without a name.

‘What about me? What is my name?’

I felt like I would know what I was born for if I knew my name. Once I knew what I was born for, I was going to understand the reason why I existed, too.

“Do you know what my name is?”

“Well, I’m not sure. You will find out when you grow a little more.”

Even Mr. Pine tree, who’s been here for tens of years, didn’t know my name. I even thought maybe he didn’t want to let me know what I was.

There was nothing special about me. I didn’t even have a flower bud. All I had was a skinny stem and a few common-looking leaves. One day, I stayed up all night, being
excited at the thought that I had a flower, but a sparrow told me it was just a dandelion spore that was blown by the wind and had a rest on my stem. My face was burning as if there was a fire in the forest.

One day, I heard potatoes that lived in a village at the bottom of the mountain bore
fruit under the ground.

‘Perhaps, I may be a potato plant!’

However hard I tried to feel if there was something under the ground, I didn’t feel anything down there. Though it was hard to accept, I finally accepted the fact that I was a nameless wild plant.

My disappointment was worse than the burning sun. It penetrated into my heart more heavily than the heavy rain and more powerfully than the storm. When the forest members treated me well, I felt like they felt pity on me; and when they treated me in the way I didn’t like, I felt like they looked down on me. It was a horrible summer.

But I am fine now. The night the last summer storm shook the whole forest, I cried buckets, hoping no one would hear me since the storm was making a lot of noise, so I felt much better as if my sorrow was taken off my chest. Then I remembered what Mrs. Cloud once said to me, “Every life is precious, because God loves and cherishes all.”

‘That’s right. It doesn’t matter whether I have a name or not. I’m still one of the forest members.’

After spending the end of eventful summer, I grew a lot taller for some reason. I thought, ‘If being a nameless wild plant is my mission, then I will be a meaningful nameless wild plant.’ If I could give even a little bit of help to someone, I would still be beautiful though nobody cared about me.

From then on, I tried to be patient when a rose pricked me with her thorns and a beetle pinched me. I tried to inhale as much carbon dioxide as possible, believing that I could be meaningful if someone could breathe in the oxygen that I made and felt refreshed. I was happy to be a plant that silently kept this forest safe.


A cool wind is blowing again. Now it was approaching late autumn. I know that because the ginkgo tree and the maple tree have turned colorful. The quince tree, which will bear its first fruit about five or six years later, is looking enviously at the oak tree that has lots of acorns at the tip of its branches.

“Dad, are we there yet?”

“Just a little more! Wow! Look at this. What a beautiful path!”

Just as Mr. Zelkova said, people start coming to take a look around the forest as autumn comes. I’m excited to see people admire our forest, because I am also a part of it.

“Sam! Look at this baby maple tree. It’s cute like you!”

“Mom, I want to take a picture here!”

The boy and the mom pose next to the maple tree with a smile on their faces. Thanks to the maple tree, I will be in the picture, too.

“Honey! Let me take a picture of you and Sam together this time.”

“Sure!”

This time, the dad and the boy approach the maple tree.

“Wait! Honey, come over here and take a look at this!”

“What is it?”

“Look at this. Th is is a very precious medicinal herb.”

Then he starts to touch my leaves.

‘A medicinal herb?’

“Yeah, you’re right! You remember? When your father was sick, we gave him this herb juice. I haven’t seen one for a long time.”

“Dad, do you know this plant?”

“Yes, of course. Your grandpa got his health back thanks to this medicinal herb. It has an anti-cancer effect, and purifies the blood, too. It’s a very good medicinal herb.”

“Dad, then do you want to take this plant home?”

“Ha ha ha. No, it needs to grow up a little more. I think it’s still a baby, but its leaves are very green and strong, so I think it’s going to grow to be a very good medicinal herb for the next couple of years.”

“Wow! Then I’ll just look at it. Later, someone in need of it can use it just like Grandpa did.”

“Wow, you’re a big boy now! Ha ha ha!”

Their cheerful laughter fades away. Do you hear this? My heart is beating so hard just like the day I thought about my dream.

I thought I was a nameless wild plant, but I was a medicinal herb, and I am still growing! I will continue to grow until I save someone’s life after many summers and winters pass by.