When I was in second grade, we moved. It was scary for me, with all those new people in their designer clothes and fancy hairstyles, but I learned to grow where I was planted. The class was just finishing up a unit about plants and had planted honey locust tree seeds. I selected a seedling from the extras my teacher had started and took it home in a little plastic cup.
While we prepared a place for it in the lawn, the seedling became subject to the influences of the household. The cup was knocked over several times, and probably wasn't watered as much as it would have liked. The suffering of the little plant was over fairly quickly as we planted it outside, just off the center of the lawn, where it would grow to shade the house from the harsh summer sun. We had dug a ring in the lawn, and embedded bricks and a little siding around it to help prevent the grass from overwhelming the tiny tree. We planted nasturtiums to shade and protect the little plant from insects and, hopefully, the lawn mower. The place prepared, we took the seedling from its cup and planted it in the soil, exposed to the elements and seasons, but protected from much that would harm it.
The seedling grew, happily sheltered in its little bed surrounded by the protective nasturtiums, and produced a nice crown of leaves. Then the dog ate the top of the tree. I remember being really mad at the dog for eating my tree, but the tree drew from the strength of its roots and the few remaining leaves and continued to thrive. The interesting thing is that after the dog ate the top, the stem grew back as three separate but equal trunks, splitting close to the ground at first, but rising higher as the tree grew. I think this gives the tree a grace and beauty that single-trunked trees do not have.
As the tree outgrew its bed of nasturtiums, a new enemy appeared: the cats. The cats loved to use the tree's soft bark to sharpen their claws, so we put up a chicken wire fence around the soft trunk. We also hung heavy weights from the branches to spread the three trunks so that they didn't grow into each other. The tree continued to grow wide and tall.
This is a tale or two trees - and so I introduce the second tree. Shortly after planting our tree, our neighbors also planted a honey locust tree. They bought theirs from the nursery already half-grown, its roots wrapped in a little ball of sacking, the trunk tall and straight, and the crown a bushy mass of leaves about 4 feet up the stem. They planted it with care, creating a small flowerbed around the base and edging it with concrete blocks. The trunk was wrapped and taut lines were set around the tree to hold it straight until its roots grew strong enough to hold the tree upright. The tree grew.
Both trees grew tall enough to shade the houses and dropped their long thin seedpods. Both fulfilled their purpose in life.
It has now been almost 18 years since that first little tree was planted, but looking at the two trees, a person immediately notices a difference. While both trees are certainly healthy, the tree that was grown from a seedling is much, much taller - broader of limb and home to quite a few birds in the spring. It shades the house and the yard while still allowing that beautiful golden green sunshine through. It has a majesty and presence that the other tree lacks.
As we go through life, we often wonder if the Master Gardener is paying attention to us. When our little pots fall over, he rights us. He prepares a place for us to live where we will be protected from the worst of the storms - but He still puts us out in the weather. He will plant nasturtiums around us, to drive away the evil forces and shade us from the harsh sun. He will surround us with a protective barrier against the encroaching weeds. We may wonder if we can survive the prunings, and our tender bark is often marred and scratched. He puts up a barrier though, that will give us time to heal and develop a strong thick bark that need not flinch under the assaults. At times we may wish that we were a nursery tree- protected from everything for the first few years, encouraged to grow as tall as we can, but think too, that the Lord knows what we can become, and will provide all that is necessary for us to become the majestic beings he knows we can become. Our roots must dive deep to thrive in this antagonistic world. Are we content with being pampered, or do we really want to reach and grow to our full potential? In all growth, it is the trials that we overcome that become the essence of our strength, so when those sore trials come upon you- think of what the Gardener has done to protect you and let the trial bring you strength as you reach your roots down to find His living water.
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