Across the river, on the other side of the village, a few steps away from the banks of the river, there was a tree, a big tree, bearing mangoes. There were not many, just this one big mango tree.

It was summer, and green mangoes in chunks were just hanging out, inviting to be taken down and eaten. But hardly anyone walked around. Maybe because of the deserted place the tree called its’ home.

One day, there was this little girl who walked past this side of the bank. Crying about her broken toy, to people whom she imagined were listening. But there was no one there, not a soul, except this big mango tree.

Moving about here and there, she finally ended up sitting under the shade of the tree. The tree didn’t mind at all. A poor little girl, crying about her broken toy to a lonely tree, why would the tree mind ?

This one day, became two and then three and then it continued. Sometimes, it was more than one time in a day. The tree grew fond of the girl as well. More than crying about that one particular toy, now she had more things to talk about. More fruits to eat, more games to play, more stories to be told and more stories to be heard, and again more fruits to be eaten. It was as if she could tell it all to the tree.

The tree was happy, and the girl too was less sad. They both somehow, filled in the missing pieces in each others’ lives. Their loneliness was what bonded them together.

Days went by and from three visits; it became two and sometimes even one. The tree waited almost every day to meet the girl. Her arrival was now greeted with the best of fruits, which the tree would save for her. Now, there were no broken toys to be talked about, but there were many new toys to talk about though. The girl was happy. The tree did miss not being able to be with her for more time, but was happy to confide in her new-found happiness.

Days again flew by, the girl occasionally came to meet the tree. And even when she did, it was for the mangoes. She ate the mangoes, talked a little and bid the tree goodbye. The girl was happy, the tree became sad. She even told once, that she has found a new tree near her home and so there was no need for her to come this far.

Although she did came once in a while for old times sake perhaps, but those visits were far and few.

The mangoes in the Big tree neared their end. The tree didn’t had much to offer. The tree was back to being its lonely self. It complained to the girl, but her excuses were a long list. The tree, waiting for his days to finish just kept listening, without complaining anymore.

The summer was about to end.