One of my favorite places to walk when I lived in Tokyo was among the beautiful pine trees that rim the moat around the Emperor's palace. The trees were like exotic dancers who assumed dramatic poses, for they had been shaped by special gardeners over the years. In the plant shops, one could find the smallest of these trees, known as "bonsai," dwarf pines.
I tried to imagine the suffering a little pine tree must go through to achieve such beauty. And then I thought ― what if. What if the dying princess in the Emperor's palace can only be saved by a beautiful dwarf pine, who is pure of spirit. In my story, a spindly little pine dreams of saving the princess. He undergoes great pain to become beautiful, with the help of King Sojobo, a mountain demon, and his band of tengu, but must agree to sacrifice his life so that the princess can live.
A critic wrote of The Dwarf Pine Tree: "This poignant work reflecting the gentle spirit of Buddha emerges as a minor masterpiece."
At last, one cold winter night when the moon was shining brightly over the forest, King Sojobo and his Tengu flew into sight. They smiled as they cut the little pine’s wires, freeing him from the shackles that had held him prisoner for so long. The little pine had thought his limbs would collapse with relief, once the horrid braces were off; but to his amazement, they held the position they had been bent to quite naturally. It was impossible for him to hold himself in any way but the most graceful way.
The King and his Tengu stepped back to view him, and then they fell to their knees. “Honorable dwarf tree,” said Sojobo, “never have we seen beauty that could surpass yours.” He held up a bucket of water so that the dwarf tree could see his reflection.
The little pine looked long and deep into the water. He could hardly believe his eyes: he saw an exquisite tree, just like the dwarf trees the Emperor’s men had carried to the palace.