A tiny chore…


As the weather grew warmer, I had to water my tree almost every day. It became a small ritual for me. Come in the front door, put my work stuff away, deal with the kids’ school needs, change my clothes and then….check on my tree! I got my watering can and watered carefully, silently urging my tree to survive, grow even! I loved watching the water soak up into the soil, and the glistening of the leaves. I felt important and necessary. I felt the same way with taking care of my children, but this was a little different. My daughters would let me know very quickly if they needed something. Neglect would not be tolerated. However, my tree was a silent child. It would not tell me its needs or make any noise about it. It would just wait for me to take action, or it would silently die. I began looking for signs of growth–I didn’t really even know what trouble signs to look for. I rather hoped things would operate under the law of “you’ll know trouble when you see it.” The littlest things made me happy: a new bud, dark green leaves, a little moss on the soil, a shoot aiming for the sun…I was enamoured with these little visual tidbits, and couldn’t yet see the bigger picture…


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