The Tree

There is a tree. On an ordinary day in an ordinary season the tree goes about her tree-like business. It rains, it snows, the sun shines upon her. She has everything she needs to continue growing into the sturdy tree she was planted to become.

One day, the tree’s roots left. Her roots, which had, for the past 11 years, held her down. And while a literal tree never moves, this one does (about every 2-4 years). But taking her roots with her, she quickly began to thrive wherever she was blown, wherever she was planted. When the wind began to blow, the roots held her down. Reminding her to be strong, be the sturdy tree she was planted to become.


With her roots across the world, she feels like she is always just barely holding on. On days when the sun shines and the wind is slow and gentle, she is able to stand still, sheltering those beneath her, growing despite her circumstance. But other days, when even the tiniest breeze begins to blow, she can feel herself tipping. The harder the wind blows, the further she tips. Her wild curly leaves swirling around her head like a cyclone. Trying but seemingly failing to protect and nurture those who need her strength and shelter. She can’t catch her breath, this wind is so strong. And she needs her roots.

She reaches for them, across the world, in the only way she can. And he, her roots, reaches back. Comforting her not with physical strength but with his words. His love for her, his belief in her, popping up from each typed word. And although her roots are not here she can feel their strength beneath her. Pulling her back up, straightening her up, holding her down.

Roots are better when they are with the tree they support. But in this case, the tree is grateful to have these roots at all, even if she must gather their strength in new and different ways. It won’t be long now til the tree and her roots are together again. The perfect team against the storm.


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