Grandfather Poplar is one the elders among the trees and the oldest of his kind for a far, far distance. He has felt alone among a crowd of trees for more than a century. This great yellow poplar has chosen to keep mostly to himself for many decades. But in his old age he has come to know and love a human child. Although he often pretends to be a curmudgeon, he has given her his heart, and for the last eight years he has shared his wit and wisdom with Melissa, who stands as tall in spirit as Grandfather Poplar himself.

At age 14, Melissa Kincaid has spent years hiding her true self from the world. She feels too much and has difficulty being around crowds of people because their pain seems to become her own. Their sorrow or anger or fear sinks into her body and her consciousness. She has learned to erect walls around herself for the sake of self-preservation.

Early in her life, she really didn’t understand that she was different. Like most young children, she simply lived. However, as she came to experience more of life, Melissa realized that not everyone absorbs the feelings of others. Not everyone goes on journeys to another realm during sleep. Most of all, of every person she knows, she alone—so far as she can discern—can communicate with the trees. Her reality does not mesh with that of anyone else she has ever met, so she keeps it secret for fear that others will deem her insane. No one except her beloved trees, the animals, and her spirit guide truly knows who Melissa is. In the forest, she can be herself. She can live the truth and let down her guard. She lives her life always aware that she is different and alone except for the trees—until the day she meets Arthur Fox—when at last a kinship with another human awakens her to the knowing that her life will never be the same.

Arthur Fox was born with many gifts. He’s more than a little telepathic and can read people’s energy with great ease. Thankfully, unlike Melissa, he has family who nurture those innate abilities and value his capacity to see the unseen and know what lies beyond the mask. Arthur’s grandmother on his father’s side has been his teacher of all things related to Cherokee wisdom and plant medicine since he was a small boy. He reveres her above all members of his family and would spend all of his time with her if he could. A devoted student of his grandmother’s path, he still brings humor and lightheartedness, which are his gifts as well, to his time with Grandmother Fox.

Arthur’s natural charm, attractive appearance and wisdom far beyond his years would be a magnet for almost any teenage girl. However, from the moment they meet, Arthur can see himself with only one girl, Melissa. Arthur values loyalty, honesty, and kindness among those with whom he shares his journey. Of course, he also likes to be a joker when the opportunity for levity presents itself.

Adahy, Melissa’s Cherokee ancestor, guides her from the spirit world. He has walked beside her all her life. A medicine man during his lifetime, he teaches Melissa both through spirit journeys during her sleep and in waking hours, gently pointing her toward her truest path and sharing wisdom whispered into her heart and soul.

Behind the Book

“Wait until you are hungry to say something, until there is an aching in you to speak.” —Natalie Goldberg, author

I love this quote. The truth is I was always hungry to say something, but I needed more than that to actually complete my first novel.

My husband Drew and I lived for over a decade with a wealth of trees on the adjacent land behind our home. The crowns of towering yellow poplars etched the sky, and standing with them, sweetgum, blackgum, maple, hickory, and many more. Our eyes and souls feasted on this rich landscape dotted in spring with white and fuchsia blossoms from the dogwoods and redbud trees. In summer the aroma of mimosa carried upon the wind even though their graceful pale pink blooms opened somewhere out of sight. These were the kindred who greeted me each time I walked onto the deck to feed the countless song birds and squirrels who lived among their branches or just to drink in the beauty and breathe in the life offered so freely by the trees.

How I took it all for granted, choosing to believe that this vista, these wondrous friends, would always be there, that the land would never perk and thus never sell, and this paradise would remain undisturbed except by the ravages of the elements and time.

But one clear, perfect September morning, everything changed. The rabbits in their warren, the heavy thicket that had kept them safe for so long, the birds, squirrels, and chipmunks fled the sound of chainsaw and bulldozer as their homes were destroyed. And the trees, those beloved trees. For two days I wept as I watched them die despite my pleading with the foreman to save some of them.

I didn’t begrudge the people behind us the right to build their home, but it took some doing to forgive the reckless removal of over an acre of beautiful trees. I cried for the forest and all its inhabitants, for the children who could have had adventures as I did in my youth and for the beauty that was erased so swiftly.

Once years before I had asked those very trees to help me write this book that I had started but, like so many similar efforts, couldn’t seem to finish. This was not the motivation I had sought, but it was what came. Their sacrifice fueled the hunger to say something beyond anything I had ever felt.

For three months from that day the story gestated, and then in just over four months it was birthed in its first form on tentative legs like a newborn foal. The trees and the animals had found their voice in my heart and mind, and at last I felt so fierce a hunger to speak that nothing—not even the inner critic—could dissuade me.  —Diana Henderson

Her writing background includes a BA degree in English, specialization in writing, from East Carolina University in 1980. She later went through the graduate school at UNCG for teaching certification. For years thereafter, she continued to take classes in writing. After spending a few years teaching English, she used her talents by working as a graphic designer and copywriter, but her love for writing fiction and poetry never waned. On her 60th birthday in December 2015, she published her first novel, Grandfather Poplar.

Diana works as an editor and writer for Realization Press and Creative Type.

About the photos at left: The top is Diana today (Summer 2022). The bottom photo (with natural hair color) was taken in 1981 on the land where Grandfather Poplar was first born as a short story.