When I hear the word fathers I think of trees. Perhaps because I see in trees the finer qualities
all great fathers share.
The obvious, their strength and sturdiness. A tree will bear things thrust upon its branches without an uttered word of complaint.
Reaching limbs hold a person up, supporting him throughout many days and
nights.
A tree is rooted where it stands. One never needs to glance
repeatedly out a window to be sure it hasn't walked away. It is
planted firmly. It is always there. Its form may sway with the
wind, but it never falters.
A tree is dependent upon sunlight; therefore, its majestic form reaches
toward Heaven for nourishment. It does not hide its need for the light,
but flourishes beneath the sun for all eyes to see.
A tree bears fruit to feed others, even though it is unable to
partake of the fruit itself. It complains to no one. And if called
upon to sacrifice itself entirely in order to warm and protect another, it does so without a word of protest.
Trees shade and protect. They shield us from the elements. I have never seen a child fear a tree, but smile up at its grandness,
eager to climb into its arms and observe the world from a higher viewpoint.
One can talk to trees without fear or reprisal. All secrets remain in a tree's confidence despite the passing of generations.
One can talk to trees without fear or reprisal. All secrets remain in a tree's confidence despite the passing of generations.
Out of all God's creations, I admire most the mighty trees. They are a grand sight to behold, and as necessary to us as are fathers.
