I look across the street and see my neighbour’s fir tree. It has been there for years guarding the front entry. The top is laden with cones … it has born much fruit. Its branches spread wide and it is a haven for the small birds that visit there.
A terrible wind storm attacked the tree one day. It shook fiercely and needles and cones scattered all over the grass below. Then another blast rocked the tree and its top started to bend. It never broke. No more cones fell, but the tree looks different now. Its top is somewhat bowed over and the once stately pine looks a bit sad.
I’m like the fir tree … in my place for many years, guarding the entry to my home, covered with cones of family and friends; hopefully being a hospitable hostess to its visitors.
But the wind of death has stormed against me. I have lost my soulmate and like the tree, I still stand, surrounded by hundreds of blessings. But to those who are perceptive they will look up and see there is a difference in my demeanor. I will never stand so straight and tall again … but God willing, I will stand and retain my place as the guardian of those things I love and cherish.
Printed in New Hope, July 2008
