Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Little Tree - a Lesson on Identity

I wrote this a few weeks ago for Ash Wednesday:

Once upon a time, there was a tree living in the countryside. Besides the harsh winters, the tree enjoyed his environment very much. The land was full of good hills to block fierce winds, there were plenty of fresh streams, and the sun’s loving rays fell on this land gently in the spring, summer and fall. And, on top of that, there was plenty of company for the tree. He was surrounded by mighty oaks and tall pines, rivers were surrounded by willows and to the south was another grove of hickory and maple.

Ever since this tree was a young sapling, he longed to be like the other trees of the land – especially the oak. He saw the mighty strength of the oak and the vibrant colors in the fall, and the tree became fascinated with power and riches. He longed day and night to join their company – to be admired for his strength, prominence and adornment. So, daily, he would walk the woods trying to impress the mighty oaks, flexing his branches and standing firm upon his trunk. And the oaks were very impressed indeed. They gave him plaques and honors and made him a member of the Mighty Oak Club.

Well, these achievements lasted for a while, but soon the tree started to notice that the tall pine trees seemed even more wonderful. They never lost their decoration and their pliable limbs moved gracefully in the wind and held the snow with such majesty that the little tree was determined to be just like them. So, he began searching the ground for needles. And, eventually, he had enough needles to clothe himself. Then, the pines started to notice him and give him attention. The other trees also started to praise him, and the tree said to them, “Oh, little old me. I am nothing special. Just another tree.” But, in his heart, he was delighted, and when the people came to celebrate Christmas, they choose him as the tree to decorate. He was overwhelmed with joy.

But, after Christmas, the tree grew sad again, longing to be noticed and appreciated. So, he decided he would become a willow tree – and a weeping willow at that. He watched the willows for days and days, and over time, he too learned how to sag his branches. It wasn’t long before people started saying, “Now, look there: There is a willow that is full of piety and humility. Why he has not raised his branches to the sky in months now.” And the tree had to try as hard as he could to keep from smiling.

By the summer, while the other trees of the land were trying to resist the heat by remaining still and lying quietly next to streams, the tree began looking for the next audience he could impress. He had already won the favor of the oaks and pines and willows and maples and beech trees. So, he started roaming the land day after day. Every where he went he adapted and changed to impress the trees of the forest. And one by one, the trees clapped and bowed and saluted.
But one fine day, late in the summer, the tree came home to rest for the evening. And as he was preparing his costume for the next day he suddenly heard a voice from the sky calling out to him.

“Little tree, little tree, do you not know? Have you not heard? Have you not bee told? You were not created for your own glory. You were created by me – to bring glory to my name for your own satisfaction.”

And the little tree hid behind his branches, and began to plead, “But, my maker, I have learned so much, and seen so much, and …”

But, before the little tree could go any further the voice interrupted him again and said, “Little tree, you have broken my heart. Did you not know that you have only one audience? And that audience is me. And I have loved you from the day you were planted. I have loved you in your sapling days, and I loved you during the coldest frost and bitterest wind. I nourished you and fed you with my love.”

And, the little tree thought he heard a sniffle and a sob.

“Little tree,” the voice said again, “you’ve spent so much time trying to win the approval of others, you’ve neglected yourself … and you’ve forgotten me. Little tree, don’t you know? You are a fruit tree, but since you have spent so much time vigorously seeking the praise of others, you have cultivated no roots, no inner strength, and – alas – no fruit. Little tree, you’ve forgotten why I made you.”

And with this, the little tree could no longer be mistaken. A mighty sob resounded throughout all of heaven and a steady stream of rain began to fall on the tree.

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