We planted her as soon as there was soil. Right there in the middle of town, where the filtered-just-right sunshine could hit her regardless of which direction it was coming from.
Twenty years ago.
It was a tradition to propose marriage under her boughs before she had boughs to speak of. Kids pick up acorns for luck: if they're caught with more than one, they get grounded and have to write a letter of apology to the Mayor. I saw a new transportee carelessly snap off a branch once. He was beaten half to death before the Cops got there.
written in response to this prompt: http://fictionprompts.blogspot.com/2012/10/prompt-3.html
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