During school recess, Cindy could sometimes be found in the trees and hedgerows of her school. She was generally ignored by the teachers on yard duty. If she was discovered dangerously high in a tree, she might get called down, but she was rarely disciplined beyond a quick scolding or a word of caution.
One day, a substitute teacher happened to be on yard duty when a rather heavy branch came falling out of a tree. The teacher looked up to find Cindy hanging from a high branch, sliding hand-to-hand back to the trunk. The teacher called her down and sent her to the principal’s office to have a talk with school’s premier disciplinarian.
When the principal received Cindy into his chamber, he asked her what she’d been sent in for. He knew that Cindy would tell him straight. She never seemed to fear the wrath of adults, so she simply told them the truth.
Hetch Hetchy, Yosemite National Park
“I was pruning,” she answered.
“Pruning?” Mr. Lopez repeated, not sure that he’d heard her right.
“Pruning.”
“Pruning.”
“There was a dead branch.”
“Ah.”
“I broke it off.”
“Well, you know, Miss Adroushan, we have gardeners for that kind of work.”
“They don’t prune.”
“Why sure, they prune. Haven’t you seen them out there—with their chainsaws?”
“That’s not pruning—sir.”
“No?”
“No sir. That’s trimming.”
“Ah.”
Cindy stood watching Mr. Lopez think. He finally continued, “You know, Cindy, a girl can hurt herself climbing up in trees like that. I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“I won’t fall, sir. I never fall.”
“Well, you see—“
“Dead wood is a fire hazard, sir.”
“Ah.” The principle thought for a moment, then he pinched his chin, let it go, and continued. “I tell you what, Cindy. I will get some men to thin out the trees, so that you don’t have to worry about it.”
“Okay, sir.”
“Good? That’s good.”
“Just one thing. Make sure they’re good climbers.”
“Def—definitely. Yes, I will do that.”
The recess bell rang, and Mr. Lopez sent Cindy back to class.