The Tree


They cut down the tree.  Perhaps they didn’t know how we mourned its loss when we had to leave it behind. How it came to us as a baby, how it was tended for years in captivity because we feared the transitory nature of our accommodations, how it journeyed with us when our fears proved true and we found ourselves bouncing around from family to foe to family again, all the while searching for what was to be our final nesting place.

Nevertheless, I will not let that stop me from trying again. I know that we cannot stay in this new place permanently and that makes it really difficult to gather the motivation to start over, but still, weather permitting, I go out every day after work and dig out some grass, because by golly I am not going to make the same mistake twice. Nothing in this world is guaranteed, and letting the fear of losing things, prevent you from living in the moment, is a sure fire way to have nothing.

You see, planting that tree when it first came to us, would have meant five years of enjoyment and usefulness, instead it spent years in captivity never getting to spread.  Only when we thought it was safe to do so, did we give it its freedom. It then blossomed and grew beyond imagination, and produced and served us well.

Yes, we would have had to plant a second tree and now a third tree, and with regret also leave them behind as well, but perhaps at least one of their new caretakers would have or will appreciate their value, and cultivate their fruit, rather than only see the work they require in return.

So this time without hesitation I am going to settle in with gusto and plant trees, lots of trees. I will dig and prune and water. I will sit in their shade and enjoy the fruits of my labor, and be thankful for the memories, because this is only a temporary existence anyway.



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