a lonely spot. Eddie Willers, aged seven, liked to come and
look at the tree. It had stood there for hundreds of years, and
he thought it would always stand there. Its roots clutched the
hill like a fist with fingers sunk into the soil. He felt safe in
the tree's presence; it was his greatest symbol of strength.
One night, lightening struck the oak tree. Eddie saw it the
next morning. It lay broken in half, and he looked into its
trunk as into the mouth of a black tunnel. The trunk was
only an empty shell; its heart had rotted long ago. The living
power had gone, and the shape it left had not been able to
stand without it It was an immense betrayl--all the more
terrible because he could not quite grasp what it was that
had been betrayed.
