The other day I was texting my so-called friend about life during the coronavirus, and I could tell that our conversation was going to spiral out of control as each text bubble presented a different anxiety. So, being the problem solver that I am, I suggested that we change the topic, which I didn’t think was all that bold of me to do. HOWEVER, there was radio silence after that–as if said friend didn’t want to or couldn’t talk about anything else–as if the conversation could not go anywhere else but COVID-19. But you know what? I need a break. Luckily, now I have a mission to prove to my so-called friend, who definitely won’t read this, that it is possible to talk about something other than the coronavirus. Of course, in a time when all the chaos surrounding the coronavirus takes up about 85% of my daily thoughts and tears, it is pretty difficult for me to come up with something else to talk about and to write about, but alas, I’ve figured it out because you know what else is happening right now? Lent. And don’t worry I’m not about to tell you that you can use this time in isolation to reconnect with your faith or whatever. No, I’m here to tell you about how during Lent, my use of paper has no bounds.
In second grade, in the third year of my twelve years of Catholic schooling, my teacher had one of those days where she didn’t really feel like teaching and put on a movie called The Proud Tree. (These were the days before remote learning took over, but we’re not going to talk about that.) This video was about Jesus’ Crucifixion but, get this, it was from the point of view of the tree that got cut down to make Jesus’ cross. And yes, it was as strange as it sounds.
Basically, there was this asshole tree that would always gloat about how he was the best looking tree out there, while teasing the other trees for being crooked and having random branches sticking out. As far as trees go, I guess he had like Zac Efron hotness (or Sean Astin hotness, if you share my taste). But good Lord, he had the most arrogant, cocky, loathsome, entitled personality. And because karma is real, some Roman soldier saw him and was like ah, yes, you’re perfect to use for execution and cut him down to size. Literally. So anyway, the asshole tree becomes Jesus’ cross and watches (participates(?)) in the crucifixion and ends up having a come-to-Jesus and converts to Christianity as trees do. The end.
I think the moral of the story was probably something about humbling yourself before Christ, which would be a poignant lesson during Lent–if that was the moral I had gotten from the movie. But ‘twas not the case. Instead, the lesson I gathered was that trees can be assholes, so some of them must deserve to be cut down to learn their lesson. Which meant that I never felt guilt for using paper. To me, the trees deserved to be turned into paper–it was all a part of God’s plan to bring them closer to Him. After all, God wouldn’t just let innocent trees get killed, right? (This was before I realized that mortality has no sense of justice. I mean, to be fair, mortality was not really as much on my mind then as it is now. But we’re not gonna go there right now.)
Anyways, during this phase of my childhood, when people told me not to waste paper, I knew that’s not what God would’ve wanted. After all, at this point in my childhood, I was also convinced I was destined to be a saint, so I knew what I was doing–unlike so many people during this coronavirus outbreak (but again, we’re not talking about that). I was only helping the trees convert to Christ. I wasn’t cruel to the tree-flesh paper, but I would press my pencil a little harder onto the paper and color a little more forcibly with my crayon, etc. Nothing too extreme, but enough to let that cut-down tree know where it stood in God’s eyes.
Since then, I’ve converted from my tree-converting ways, and I’ve realized that all trees that get turned into paper aren’t jerks. Now, there’s even a part of me that feels guilty whenever I print something or whenever I throw away some notes or handouts. However, whenever Lent rolls around, I revert back to my old ways because I think about The Proud Tree. For instance, right now, if I were back on Rhodes campus, I know I would feel no guilt when PaperCut told me how many trees I’ve used.
Ultimately, my Catholic schooling has affected my perspective on a lot of things, but it has affected my use of paper the most. Truly. I wish I were exaggerating. To put it in perspective, I saw that video once. Thirteen years ago. That’s more than half of my life ago. And yet it has remained at the forefront of my mind since then, especially during Lent. And now, I hope that it will remain at the forefront of yours. If you’re feeling angry and frustrated and sad and need to get your emotions out, go ahead and kick a tree. Just make sure it’s a good-looking tree because, let’s face it, that tree is probably an asshole and deserves it.*
*I hope you already know this from common sense, but I don’t really endorse violence against trees. I am just writing for ~effect~ so don’t blame me if you hurt yourself or a tree while kicking it. Please be safe, and make good decisions. :)