Bon the Little Guardian

One of the wonderful things about being a children's author is that other writers share their stories with me! This story has a lot of heart, and is a beautiful nature-connected tale from the Philippines. Written by Zea Perez, it was translated from Filipino by Jae Oh. The story is edited by JECaulton and illustrated by JC Sobrevilla.

I'm honoured to showcase their story, which explores and important topic and gives the forest a voice.

In the virgin forest of Doe grew strange little trees called bonsai or pygmy trees. There were bonsai trees of the Almaciga, Narra,,Lawaan, Apitong and many other miniature trees as tall as one to two feet that lived in this forest. It was a Bonsai community at the mountain top with clouds that always seemed to embrace it in a slow, dreamlike dance.

Despite their smallness and their height, the bonsai trees were very strong, their trunks like solid rock. They could carry anything on their branches without a single twig being broken. Strong winds would come but the bonsai community always stood their ground. They were a very proud lot, these small trees atop the mountain, who for many years had vowed to guard their home. They knew that in order to live they had to guard the forest from invaders. The forest was their haven and they had to protect it as much as they could.

In this Bonsai community lived Bon, a young Lawaan bonsai. One day, Bon was assigned to guard the entryway by observing, the path which led to the tribal people who populated the mountain. Observing this entryway was a task that the community had always done, as it was the most vulnerable spot where strangers could easily come in. It was also the place where one could hear the activities going on in the nearby communities.

“Begin now little one and guard the gate,” Bon’s mother said to him.

“Be careful to listen well. Open your eyes wide and report at once to us if you notice anything unusual.”

“Yes, mother,” Bon replied absent-mindedly as he watched a bird atop another bonsai tree.

“Listen now, child. Be sure to do your job.”

Bon understood the drill as he had been taught about it many times. If an invader comes, the guard must immediately report to the head bonsai. The head bonsai then alerts the signal for all the birds and forest creatures to make a sound that will in turn alert the tribal community. This was especially for loggers who may try to invade the forest and steal the giant trees.

Once, when a team of surveyors for a logging company entered the forest, all the birds flew and created so much uproar that the Indigenous community came running to see what was happening. A confrontation ensued and the loggers and surveyors were flatly refused entry. The indigenous community didn’t want to allow another sad event where the big loggers would take away everything, as had happened before.

“Destroyers of the forest, go away! You are not welcome here!” This the bonsai community would say to the loggers, if they could only speak.

“Don’t worry, Mother, I will guard the gate,” Bon replied before his mother could say anything more.

For several minutes, Bon listened well. No news. The forest was quiet as usual. Then he heard his friends coming.

“Bon, let’s play. Let’s dance the hukilaw with the breeze,” invited the birds, his little friends.

“True, Bon. It’s nice here with the sunlight peeping through,” a butterfly shyly called out to him.

Bon thought it wouldn’t do harm to do as his friends said. Even just for a little while he would play. Besides, everything was quiet in the forest.

So, Bon the young bonsai played—dancing, singing, swishing, flying his leaves with the breeze. For many hours he played with his friends.

Then from out nowhere he heard a terrible sound. Was it a chainsaw cutting a tree? Bon immediately remembered his task. “Aaaah, please no, please no!” He was instantly filled with guilt for deserting his post. He must report at once!

“Don’t worry now, we will do what we can. Just wait here and see what happens,” his friends tried to console him. “We ourselves will report to the bonsai head of this terrible sound.”

And so, without much ado, the butterfly and the birds flew to report what happened.

“Where is Bon now?” his mother asked.

“He is right there at gate, guarding and listening,” they replied.

Immediately the bonsai community called for a meeting. It was evident that danger was looming, a very potent situation that could mean death for all of them. They knew that if the loggers took away the trees the forest would be destroyed, their community too would suffer. The watershed would dry up and many would die. Many would die from lack of water. All the creatures of the forest would suffer and the indigenous community too.

“Oh, if only I had listened well. I could have given the signal promptly. I shouldn’t have played. Forgive me, mother,” Bon cried. He was so sorry for not having done his job.

“Don’t cry now. Do better next time,” his mother said as she tried to wipe away the tears that came out of the little tree.

“Please forgive us, Bon. We are also at fault. We shouldn’t have urged you to play with us,” the birds and butterfly told him.

“But at least we were able to alert the community, if a bit late,” they tried to comfort him.

‘And it’s not yet too late. Look?’ Bon’s mother let the them see what the Bonsai community did. Bon and his friends beamed. True, it's not yet too late!

And so it was, that the big sound from the forest rang to signal to everyone that danger was at hand. It was a terrifying wail that came from the united voice of flora and fauna who didn’t want to be disturbed—a sound that reverberated in all the communities of people that surrounded the forest. It was a wailing, shrill sound loud enough to waken up the entire village to action.

And it did. The community of people who saw and heard what was happening in the forest stood up and did their part. They could never let nature down, when nature itself was urging them to do their prime duty in protecting the forest and its inhabitants from the evils of greed and plunder.
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Bon and his friends continued to guard the gate. They would be there at all times of the day, mindful of their task, conscious of the danger that lurked when men would invade the forest to rob them of their rightful place in their beautiful peaceful residence atop the mountain, with the clouds embracing them in a slow dreamlike dance.
 
***hukilaw is a like a tribal dance to express joy and festivities.

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