Tuesday, February 14, 2006

Acorns


Once upon a time there was an old, gnarled oak tree standing at the edge of a vast and lifeless desert. Around the oak tree was an oasis of life, a paradise palatial in its beauty. The oak tree had been there for as long as any of the other plants and animals could remember, and it served as home, haven, and wellspring of all good things for everything that flourished around it.
Upon the branches of this mighty tree were many acorns, and two of these acorns had grown up together since their birth. They were very close, sharing all of their joys and hopes with each other from day to day. They were happy, and did not want to change a thing about their lives.
The world is hard, however, and fate sometimes has other plans, even for the most fragile and kind of all souls. A terrible storm blew in one day, blotting the sun from the sky and bending all the smaller trees around the oak almost to the ground. Rain and hail lashed out at the garden paradise, and many were lost in the destruction.
The storm passed, as all storms do, and the acorns survived. This, my friends, is the good news. The bad news (isn't there always bad news?) is that they were torn from the limbs of the only home and family they'd known. Swept upward into the torrential sky, rent from one another and deposited on opposite sides of the cracked wasteland. The first acorn flew miles and miles until it dropped into a bed of sandy soil. The second acorn barely missed dropping to the bottom of a canyon, an abyss so deep that light never struck the bottom. This acorn found meager shelter between two boulders and spent the night in fear for its life.
No nurtured growth was in the future for these seedlings. Alas, the only hope left to each acorn was that the storm which had so ravaged their existence had also softened the normally hard earth and left a small puddles of moisture in which they could find some sustenance.
Now, I can hear you saying “This is not possible! How could a little acorn survive in a desert?” But I ask you, have you not ever seen a tree or bush, or a flower, growing where it should not be able to grow? Sprouting from rock, cracked pavement, or salted soil? Life has a way of persevering. And that, dear readers, is exactly what happened with these acorns. The love they shared was so stupendous they could not bear to die. Each acorn huddled down as far as that small patch of damp dirt would allow them to, and drank as deeply as they could of the water that was left to them. Then they pushed. Bravely, determinedly, and without concern as to what might come next they heaved themselves upward and outward, cracking their tiny shells. That tiny bit of moisture, that blazing sun and the determination to live provided each of them the fertilization they needed. It was an arduous battle, and one they both nearly lost many times. Yet they persevered. The little green shoots they had now become struggled to breach the confining terrain until at last they spread their tiny leaves and viewed the sky once again.
Years passed, and the tiny acorns, now trees in their own right, wilted in the heat of the fiery sun. Most trees would have given up, but not these two. They used their energy to thrust their roots down into the soil and sought what nourishment they could find. Each acorn, once quite tame and coddled, was now a tree fighting for its very life.
I’d like to tell you they grew up straight and tall, and that no disease or other misfortune befell them. But you’d think I was a liar if I did, and so I would be. Though they eventually grew to be thick and sturdy and strong, they also grew to be gnarled and twisted, scarred and misshapen. The canopy of each tree was full and green, but many hollows and cracks filled the tree trunks from every hardship. The world they lived in was barbarous, and it left its mark on each of them.
You must be thinking, “How sad! How horrible!” But if you are, then you do not understand they way of the world. You see, life is made to be difficult to prepare us for what we need so we can be strong, and more able to be who we need to be. And so it was for these trees. You see, they were not theonly life forms that were tossed into this awful place. Birds and insects were now and again blown in by passing storms, and they found a home in the hollows of each tree. There they lived and died, bringing companionship, and eventually nourishment, to the trees. Seeds were swept in, or dropped by birds, and one day grasses began to grow beneath the trees, and flowers. One of the oak trees had a thriving colony of honey bees; the other was home to a family of owls.
Though far apart, the trees grew up in a similar fashion, and never forgot their childhood sweetheart. They sensed that somewhere, the one they loved still lived. Every day they dropped their roots a little deeper, but they also reached out and across for the soul mate they knew to be somewhere out there.
Years passed, more than a hundred in fact, and the tiny acorns were both now mighty oak trees standing in the center of a vast and lifeless desert. Beneath and around each tree was a thriving oasis of life, a paradise in the midst of a wasteland. Each oak now served as home, haven, and wellspring of all good things for everything that prospered around it.
This is the circle of life.
And one night while all slept, and a bright moon hung full and shimmering in a sky woven of blue velvet and silver stars ... a sigh was heard across the breadth and the length of the desert. A sigh that made every living thing smile in its soul and dream of all theloved ones they’d ever known.
At the moment of that sweetsigh, the tiny tendrils which the oaks had been painstakingly moving outward, seeking tirelessly and relentlessly, met in the midst of that desert. The roots curled around each other in a caress as much like a kiss as anything could be; grasping and binding to one another with a joy so profound that every living thing on the earth felt it. (Have you ever suddenly smiled, and didn't know why? Well, now you know.)
I won't bother to tell you they were never sad again. I won't treat you like a fool and say that they were never sick, never suffered, and never died. But I will tell you that they spent the rest of every day in their magnificent lives satisfied and never regretting what had come to pass. They discovered, as I hope you might be so fortunate to some day, that while love and faith and perseverance might not serve as a barrier to pain, they will help you through it. While they won’t protect you from tragedy, they’ll soften the blow. And while we always hope and wish for everything in our lives to be easy, sometimes some of the most beautiful things come from that which is most difficult.

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