Saying Goodbye

• Ella Chiavaroli, Grade 5
• Short Story
• 2011

We were moving. For 9 years of my life I had lived here. I did not want to move. I loved my garden. I loved the trees, the flowers, the bushes, and the cubby. But my favourite thing in the garden was the peppercorn tree that I called Pippa. All I wanted to do at the moment was go to her.

Today was the day before we moved. As soon as I heard the door close, I ran out the back and started swinging on the tyre swing which hung from one of Pippa’s thick branches. “I really will miss you, you know,” I said stroking the bark of the tree’s long trunk. A tiny dew drop from one of Pippa’s many leaves from the previous night’s storm fell onto my head with a tiny plop, as if Pippa was crying. I looked around the garden, at Willow, Daisy, Lily, Honeysuckle (the cubby) and everything looked much sadder than usual.

“Tasha!” The call interrupted my thoughts. My parents were back from moving things to the new house. “Tasha, where are you?” Mum said as she came into the garden. “We’re going to take some more things to the new house. Why don’t you come with us?” Mum asked.

“No I’m fine thanks Mum. I’ll just stay here while you all go. I don’t like the new house anyway” I said sadly. “But darling, how can you say you don’t like it when you’ve only been there for 5 minutes!” Mum pointed out. I couldn’t argue with that. “OK then” I muttered.

When we got there, Dad had a surprise for me. He took me upstairs and asked, ‘How do you like your new room?’ I’d always wanted an upstairs bedroom all to myself. I hadn’t expected this. Then I went to see the garden. I knew it would never be as good as my old garden, but now I suddenly noticed that it had plants and trees – and grass. “Wow, grass!” I exclaimed. We hardly had any grass at our old house. I helped Dad and my brother to find a new spot for the tyre swing, on the fig tree.

Back at the old house later that night, we ate our dinner on the floor, which was uncomfortable, but kind of fun in a way. This would be the last night in the old house. I had an uneasy sleep.

The next morning I ran outside and sang my farewell song to the garden through my tears. The time to go had come. With one final wave to my beloved garden, we departed.

Life in the new house hasn’t been as bad as I thought actually. I still light up when I sing to the trees, and feel light-hearted when I dance in the sunlight. And best of all I discovered I can still see my beloved Pippa from the upstairs of my school and she waves her branches to me each day.