The Truth Tree

The old man sits at the foot of a tree along the meadow's edge. A young man sees him look out over the village, then the meadow, and watches as he turns his face toward the sky. The old man catches sight of him and calls him over.

'My son, would you like to share some time with me?' the old man asks and moves to make room for him.

'Sir, I would enjoy that,' the young man says and after a moment he asks, 'Sir, I see you here beneath this tree often and have wondered if this tree shares a memory with you.'

The old man smiles, 'Yes, it does, my son. I call this gargantuan specimen the Truth Tree.'

'The Truth Tree? Why is that, Sir?' the young man is intrigued by the old man's answer.

'Well, the story begins many years ago when my father and I planted a seedling. It was my responsibility to tend it, to nurture it. At times I was very attentive to it, almost smothering it with my over-exuberant nurturing. At other times I would pretend indifference and let nature do with it what it would. My father was not pleased with me and explained that the truth of my life, and how I would live it, could be determined by the care I gave to a spindly seedling I had planted in hopes it would find its roots. He and I came here and saw that the seedling was dying and I asked my father what I should do. He told me I would have to find my answer, my truth, on my own and left me to do just that.'

'I am assuming you found your answers for we are sitting beneath its outspread arms now,' the young man observes.

'No, my son, I did not,' the old man says with a hint of sadness echoing in his words. 'This beautiful specimen is the second seedling I planted here. The first had been neglected too long and it never found its roots, withering to nothing but an unrealized dream. That is when I knew what I must do. I planted another seedling, nurtured and tended it, and watched it grow through the years that followed. As I grew from childhood to adulthood, so did this tree. I made a choice to listen to the Creator's word and found my truth and thus I have named this tree to remind me always of the lesson learned. '

'What lesson did you learn, Sir?' the young man asks as he looks upward enjoying the beauty of its leafy canopy.

'I learned about the seasons of life, how they compare to the seasons of nature, and the responsibility of living them, tending them with care, and accepting that there are some things we cannot change,' he explains simply.

'How do our seasons of life compare, Sir?' the young man asks as he is not sure he understands.

'Ah, my son, we are born as are the leaves of spring. We blossom and grow from the seeds of love. The tears of nature sustain us, nourish us, as we become stronger. The suns of summer provide us with our first challenges just as they challenge the joys of nature. We, mankind, are left to our own choices to forge our journeys. Nature can but hope its treasures can withstand the traumas summer can bring. In our autumns we will know the winds of change, the deepening of our colors before they dull and fade. We begin to loosen our tethers just as the leaves loosen their grip on their arms of protection.'

The old man pauses for a moment before continuing, 'But it is in winter that our truths become evident. Our lives are laid bare, our vulnerability is exposed, and many times our existence is dependent on factors we cannot control. I have also learned that in every season there is joy and there is sadness. There is always hope and faith in the next season if we are willing to accept it. This tree will likely outlive me but we share a bond of truth that will never die. This is why I spend time with it and treasure its companionship,' replies the old man as he begins to rise.

He turns to the young man and says, 'Sit here and enjoy its friendship. The Truth Tree spreads its arms in welcome to you and everyone. Its roots provide a sturdy seat. Its bark is a reminder that life is sometimes hard. Its nicks and scars remind us that we will not be perfect and to accept our imperfections, but if we live our lives well, we are protected and can survive. Its leaves provide the shadows we sometimes need to see the light offered. Trees show us the continuance of life, the rebirth that lies within us. They touch the sky to remind us to dream. Their feet are planted in soil so we might never forget to know our roots and our values. Their branches represent an open mind and the sound of wind rushing through is the music that feeds our soul. '

'Good day, my son, and may you enjoy your visit,' he says to the young man. To the Truth Tree, the old man says, ' Good day, my friend. I will be back.'

They hear a rustling of leaves and both look upward, each gathering his own thoughts. The old man continues on with his journey but is pleased to see the young man remains seated, enjoying the honesty found beneath the arms of the Truth Tree. He watches the young man place his hand upon the tree's trunk, its very heart.

The old man smiles. It is good!