The Wishing Trees by John Shors

daughter, weeping for a woman who had loved and left them.
    Ian wanted to believe in Kate’s words, in the wishing tree, but try as he might, he couldn’t. How could he believe in such goodness when that very goodness had been ripped away from him?
    He knew, though, that Mattie needed to believe, that she couldn’t soar if she didn’t have faith. So, as he cried, he whispered to her about how much her mother must love her drawings. And about how her wish, whatever it was, would surely come true.

NEPAL

    To Climb and Fall
“ONE WHO DOESN’T KNOW HOW TO DANCE SAYS THE FLOOR IS CROOKED.”
    —NEPALESE SAYING

    F ive days later, Ian and Mattie had seen most of Kyoto and its surroundings. They had visited Todai-ji Temple, the largest wooden building in the world. On the banks of the Kamo River, they’d picnicked and watched cranes hunt for crayfish. They had followed kimono-clad women who strolled on wooden sandals down cobblestone passageways. Days were spent sharing smiles with strangers, hiking to ancient shrines, sketching sights both new and old. To Ian, much of Kyoto had changed. And yet so many corners and crevices carried memories. They’d walked past a famous bar, outside of which Kate and he had first kissed. They’d traveled to Lake Biwa, where Kate and he had swum and camped. Unfortunately, the rebirth of such memories sent Ian careening into black holes from which he struggled to escape.
    They had left Japan two days ahead of schedule. Though he enjoyed the country as much as any he’d visited, Ian simply couldn’t stay in Kyoto. Staying in Kyoto was like setting himself on fire. And he couldn’t do that with Mattie by his side.
    The next stop on their itinerary was Nepal, a land through which he and Kate had hiked and climbed, yet a place where his memories weren’t so crisp and common. They had only spent three weeks in Nepal, and though those three weeks had been wonderful, the Himalayas had overshadowed everything they’d done there. Ian didn’t fear returning to Nepal as much as he had Japan, though he did worry about taking Mattie to a developing country. He felt irresponsible for doing so, given her age.
    Now, as they sat in the back of a well-traveled plane, heading deeper into the heart of Asia, Mattie opened her film canister. She didn’t know what to expect and was surprised when a diamond ring set in silver tumbled onto her lap. “What’s this?” she asked, picking up the ring.
    Ian smiled. “I know whose it is, luv. But I’d rather have your mum tell you.”
    “What?”
    “Read her note.”
    Mattie held the ring in her left hand and opened a rolled-up piece of paper with her right.
My Marvelous Mattie,
What you hold in your hand was your great-grandmother’s wedding ring. She wore it for thirty-nine years. When she died it went to my mother, and then to me, and now I’m passing it along to you. I know that it’s too big for you to wear properly, but someday it won’t be.
Your great-grandmother was a remarkable woman, as was your grandmother. They may not have made newspaper headlines, but they were extraordinary nonetheless. Do you know, my precious girl, that your great-grandmother aided in the war effort? She worked in a factory, painting jeeps, touching them up and adding white stars. And your grandmother volunteered her whole life, helping those less fortunate than she. I had planned on following in her footsteps, but this illness has derailed those ideas.
Someday, Mattie, you may have your own wedding ring. Choose it wisely, because I hope it will spend a lifetime on your finger. And choose your husband with even more care. Take your time. Pretend that you’re walking with your eyes closed. Love should be savored, not rushed.
Do you know why I fell for your daddy? Well, it wasn’t because he was handsome or powerful or rich. He was average-looking and as poor as a church mouse. But inside, Mattie, inside he glowed. He knew how to make me happy. From our very first