I grew up in a neighborhood where each house, although modest, was gifted with a huge lot with room for a large vegetable garden and many trees. You see, I grew up in Oak Ridge, Tennessee where the government had purchased farmland in early forties to quickly build three huge facilities where secret preparations were underway to construct the first atomic bomb. The farmland was chosen because of the hillsides so that if an explosion occurred at one of the facilities, it would hopefully not affect the residents of this new city.[i] Roads were cleared, and prefabricated houses were placed at an amazing rate. Many of those houses still exist today. The dormitories and other facilities have since been torn down.
But, back to my story. I grew up in one of those very modest houses in a family of six children. Our house was at the bottom of the long lane and our back property was adjacent to the nearest elementary school. The school was named Willow Brook because of its beautiful weeping willow trees beside a brook. There was a softball field, swings, monkey bars and all the recreational equipment that a child would ever need.
So, growing up there was certainly a blessing. I remember many walks with my dad up an adjacent hillside where we would watch new houses being built. Although we were in the city, we had many of the benefits of living in the countryside. The trees, huge vegetable gardens, flowers and birds were part of my childhood memories. I was thinking the other day of the trees that surrounded our house. In the front yard, there was a huge sycamore that shaded our house and the neighbor’s. On the back, there was a sugar maple on one end of the house and a silver maple on the other. I remember how my dad fussed about those roots from the silver maple that pushed up through the sidewalk.
Also on the back, we had a red cedar that my oldest brother planted. The smell of red cedar can still transport me back there. Further back on our lot toward our gardens, there was an apple tree that produced wonderful fruit every year and there was also a thorn tree. That is what I meant to tell you about when I first started writing but I needed you to visualize the scene first.
The thorn tree was actually very attractive. It was tall and massive, but you sure didn’t want to even get close because of those thorns! The thorn trees evolved to keep animals away, simply protecting themselves.[ii] On the other side of the back property was a much smaller tree, not all that impressive but it bore such lovely fruit. Yes indeed, the apples were tasty, although a bit tart sometimes. Mother made apple pies and peeled, cored, and froze many bags of apples to be enjoyed all winter long. The apple tree produced for many years.
I was thinking of the difference of those two trees and how much they are like people. I’ve known a lot of people who, like the thorn tree, have a prickly disposition and you learn very quickly that you can be injured by their barbs and thorns. Just like the thorn tree, it is defensiveness, likely emulating their parent(s).
On the other hand, that modest little apple tree weathered many storms but broke out in profuse blooms every Spring, sending out messages of abundance, joy, and love for all. Those lovely blooms turned into apples and by the end of the summer, we were enjoying them. When I was a child, I loved climbing up into that tree and just sitting there on a limb, feeling as if I were in paradise.
How beautiful it feels to be in the presence of someone who has weathered many storms, but they continue to smile, continue to bear beautiful fruit. Those who choose to be like the thorn tree may be ranting and raving about this and that and you really don’t want to be near them, do you? Their sharpness turns you away. Instead of that, I want to be as lovely, pleasing, and strong as that sweet apple tree. How about you?
[i] Oak Ridge – Tennessee Historical Society (tennesseehistory.org)
[ii] Missouri Survival: The Honey Locust Thorn Tree (mosurvival.blogspot.com)