If trees could talk, this little one would have a few tales to tell. Today as I was sitting at the dining room table, trying to be disciplined in my writing, my mind wondered as I searched to become more familiar with my stories leading lady. As my mind buzzed around, it eventually landed on the apricot tree in our back yard. In true Rene fashion, my mind jumped between character and tree…. tree and character, (shiny thing to shiny thing). Yet somewhere in the dance it became clear to me that they were both very similar in their beginnings. This little tree,stands now, a master pieces… but it’s beginnings were harsh. Planted and uprooted several times before landing in its current place of residence. I thought of it’s being planted as a tiny tree only to be ran over TWICE by a contractor building houses to the west of ours. His little branches and trunk scraped and battered. His mere presence disregarded and tossed aside. I can recall the local nursery telling me that with the right soil, love, water, and out of the reach of said contractor the tree had a fighting chance. It became our committed purpose to insure that the little tree grew into a big, fruit producing tree and he has.I compared Stormie’s little life to the tree, I knew the truth was the same. She too could grow and produce in the right “soil”, the right “light” and “love”. I can recall my own tears of frustrations as I picked up that sweet little tree, thinking, “SOME PEOPLE.” The same is true in the life of Stormie. While we often think we need explanations as to the why’s, for some of the things that happen in our lives, in truth they rarely change the outcome. Rarely do they make the scars heal any faster, or the brokenness any less painful … There is something that has to happen inside us that makes us decide if we will succumb to the negative experiences, or we can be determined to grow up strong and produce much fruit, in spite of the damage done.
I love spring time and the reminders that come with all the newness of life that is popping forth in-spite of their past experiences.. As my little Apricot tree breathes in life again this spring, with it he brought anew life for Stormie’s story too. Growing where she was planted, her’s too will be one of the little tree that could.
A Cowgirl Called 