There was a fir forest not far from the village. It was preceded by a vast field. There was a very old but still mighty oak tree growing in the field. One night there was a big thunderstorm; there were peals of thunder and lightning piercing the ground. There was also a small one running towards the oak tree in the field. It was a boy named Willy.
…It was a nice autumn morning. Willy took a basket and left home. When he came to the forest he began picking mushrooms and got so involved in it that totally lost a sense of time. When he raised his eyes to the sky it was too late. There were tremendous dark mists in the sky; they were colliding with one another making a cracking sound. The young mushroomer realized there would be a big storm tonight. He was afraid to stay in the forest and ran out of there.
It began raining heavily. Willy reached the oak tree and stood on the dry ground under it. Suddenly there flashed a lightning, the electric flow went down to the oak tree, and its trunk was divided in half. Large branches fell down. Willy closed his eyes because of the bright light of the lightning and didn't manage to run away from the falling branches. The boy fell down and got his leg stuck under them. He tried to take it out but unsuccessfully. It seemed to be stuck in there forever. The boy lost consciousness.
Willy came to himself when the sun had risen. He saw three mushroomers far from him. The boy began calling for help. Those people heard him screaming, ran and helped him to get free. They carried the boy to his home.
Willy was taken to hospital. Those three mushroomers agreed to cut down the rest half of the tree trunk. They took a big saw and came to the old oak tree. There was an aged man standing near the burnt tree.
"Step back, old man. We will cut the oak tree," said one of the mushroomers.
"What is it you will cut such a good tree for?" asked the aged man.
"It's not a good tree. It fell down on the boy during thunderstorm."
"But if you cut the oak tree it will get worse. This way the oak tree was struck by lightning; if there wasn't the tree lightning would wound the boy."
The aged man went away. The mushroomers got lost in thinking, and all of them went home without a discussion.
The oak tree didn't remain dry. There had grown numerous new green branches which covered the wound. Only one old branch with brown leaves on it could remind of that frightful night.
April 8 2015