Thankful Roots



In 1996, my young daughter wanted her own flower garden. She made rock-lined sawdust pathways and planted little patches of ground cover. Tulip and daffodil bulbs were the spring harbingers followed by flowering shrubs throughout the growing season. She planted an ornamental cherry tree as the centerpiece.


She could see her mini-garden from her bedroom window—year after year until she graduated and moved on.


Without her caretaking, the ground cover eventually blanketed the area, and the valiant cherry tree was the sole survivor.


Over the years, the chipmunks created an elaborate underground tunnel system around the trunk of the cherry tree. Why it hasn’t killed the tree roots is a mystery.


It’s as if the cherry tree and the chipmunks made some sort of symbiotic agreement. They share their space.




Every autumn as the leaves turn colors, I wonder if this will be the tree’s final year. How long can a tree thrive with handicapped roots? One more hard winter?


Then, I think of my daughter—she’s a lot like her tree. She has thrived during seasons of uncertainty—when the leaves are barren. She’s come back with strong seasons of growth. She put her roots down but also has shown me how to share “root space” so you can make room for others.


In a season of thanksgiving, a hardy tree and my daughter have shown me the best way to do life. 


May the roots of love, hope, peace, and joy surround you in this season of thanksgiving.

 

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