The Little Tree

We had some pretty stiff winds a while ago.

I got a call from Phil mid-morning asking me to go check on our new little tree. The tree is a tiny little thing. It is sprangly with branches at the top and a long narrow stem. It’s the same tree as the other huge Dawn Redwood that stands on the other side of our back yard. The older tree is huge and a lovely green that turns a beautiful rust color in the fall and loses its leaves/needles in the winter. My momma planted that tree. It’s really crowded between a blue spruce and the tulip tree. We bought a second tree and gave it plenty of room to grow.

This poor little sprout snapped in the wind. I nearly cried. I’m so glad Phil had the nudge to call me when he did! It appeared to have just happened and the stem and leaves were still green.

Well, I propped the little thing up; taped its broken stem, and gave it a good watering and a healing. It withstood the rest of the windstorm.

Now, it’s turning that rust color. That means to me that the little thing isn’t getting sufficient sap to the top. I’m still hoping that the stem will grow around the wound and heal sufficiently to get the sap going.

Fortunately, we’ve had mild weather and some rain, so this little guy isn’t stressed too badly. High heat would be the death of it, I’m sure.

There is a tiny bit of a green branch growing from the bottom of the stem. If the top doesn’t make it, the bottom has a great chance of making it. I’m still in high hopes of the main stem healing and creating a big beautiful tree.

Time will tell.

So it is with a lot of things, isn’t it? Time will tell.

We do our best to heal our own wounds and we still aren’t sure we will ever be okay. We do our best to heal wounded relationships and we still aren’t sure those will ever be okay.

We do our best.

We mend and make amends. We pray for the right conditions for things to heal and get better. Then we wait. We watch and wait. I’ve visited that little tree just about every day. I walk up the hill to the back end of the property with mixed feelings of hope and dread. I walk down the hill will gratitude that it’s still here another day, accepting that uncertainty is a part of the process.

Whatever you are waiting on – your own healing or the healing of a friendship or a situation, we wait and we watch. We do our part and allow ourselves a measure of gratitude and a heaping helping of uncertainty.

We check in and step back. The hardest part is allowing things to be as they are. I knew I could have staked that little thing earlier. But, alas, it is what it is. And I can only do what I can only do in this moment.

We do what we can and we allow space for Divine Source to do the real work. We engender hope and trust and keep the faith.

Brock Brown