A Little Tree Story
About 5 years ago, a blue spruce at the very back of our property began to die. Over one winter, the entire top half of the tree turned brown. It looked unsightly, but I wasn't ready to part with it. So, I told Bob to saw off the dead part and leave the bottom. It was a comical sight - a squat bottom half of a spruce maybe 3' (.91 M) tall with one bough that extended above the rest.
Well, that little disfigured tree grew and grew. Over the years, I started calling it my "Hula Tree" because when the wind blows, it sways gently. That upraised bough, like a graceful arm, beckons to me.
"Thank you, Barb, for seeing my potential," it seems to say.
It has grown substantially, especially in girth. It's now twice the size it was and a commanding presence. I'd be sad not to see it when I look out my kitchen window. The spruce is healthy now and perfectly happy as half a tree.
It continues to dance for me.
Perhaps the tree is just a tree or possibly it's a metaphor - make of it what you want.
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