We read a few, then Sophie announced she was going to write her own poem. She dictated exactly what you read here; it’s about her best friend, Sarah, who is scheduled (last minute illnesses notwithstanding) to come over later today.

“Sarah Was Going to Sophie’s and Then She Got Sick”
(by Sophie with apologies to Shel Silverstein)

I can’t go to school said Sarah T.
I have the bumps! I have purple measles!
My stomach has the flu!
Because I have the measles and the bumps.
I have the mumps, the purple bumps.
My tongue is up to my nose!
My mouth’s up to my nose,
My stomach has the Hipstamatic flu.
My tongue is in my eye.
My left eye has broke it.
My right eye is blind.
I can’t help it because Sarah has the flu and the bumps.
I can’t go to Sophie’s house because I am sick because I am sick because I have a flu in my head so I can’t go to school or to Sophie’s house too.
I can’t help it because Sophie’s house is so awesome.
She loves the rock wall.
My head hurts. I have the stomach flu, the Hipstamatic flu.
Sarah is so sick that she couldn’t come to school or Sophie’s house.
I can’t help it because Sarah has the flu!
Oh no, said Sarah. I can’t go to Sophie’s house because I am so sick, because she is so sick that she can’t come.

Last night Sophie brought me a book to read before bed — The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein.

I know it well, although I also knew for sure (despite the fact that we own way too many books I have trouble keeping track of) that I’d never read it to either of my girls.

“The Giving Tree” is one of those children’s books you buy before you have kids. After you have them, you realize that a story like this — about a tree that loves a boy so much she gives him her apples, her branches and finally her trunk — is too impossibly sad. Not something you can easily share with your child.

But Sophie chose it and I read it, and as I read it I thought (in that sick way we can all multitask at this point) about how it seemed more okay to read it to Sophie than to Annabelle — and not just because Annabelle’s got two years on Sophie.

Sophie loved cuddling and listening to a story, and don’t get me wrong, there are plenty of stories she does “get,” but not this one.

Will she ever?

Yes, for sure. Someday, I’m certain, she will, and we’ll read it together and cry. For me to say I’m sure she will someday get it is big. I once wrote that I strongly doubt she’ll ever “get” the book “A Wrinkle in Time.” I was chastized for that, so for now, my jury will at least remain out, if not undecided.

But “The Giving Tree,” yes. Sophie will fully understand loss. Today she doesn’t, which frankly is okay with me. Today is the one-year anniversary of Ray’s mom’s death, and I know I’m corny and always on the lookout for signs, but I did find it interesting that Sophie handed me this sad, sweet book about an apple tree on the eve of this anniversary.

Sophie doesn’t really understand why Ray had an apple tree planted in our front yard a couple months ago. Last week (coincidentally — I’m sure even he didn’t remember — it was the anniversary of the day his mother went into the hospital) he sent me a picture of the first blossom on the tree.

This morning it had several more. We haven’t said anything to the girls (yet, anyway) about the date. Annabelle misses her grandma enough; would this be rubbing it in, to say something?

For months Sophie said, “I miss Grandma” whenever she was tired. It was like a mantra, hard to know if she really knew what she was saying, even, or if it was just one of her conversation starters.

Someday, she will get it, just like she’ll get “The Giving Tree”. And I suspect that will be both a sad day, and a happy one.

As with much in life, I can never decide if “The Giving Tree” really has a happy ending or not.