there’s a tree outside my mother’s house, it reaches to the sky. when I was younger I would try to climb it everyday, but I was never tall enough to reach the lowest branch. one time my brother lifted me up and I was able to grasp it for a second, but I wasn’t strong enough to pull myself up, and he gently lowered me back to the ground.
the trees I used to climb when I was younger, they were smaller, with more branches and sturdy bases. sometimes it was difficult, but I was always up to the challenge. that tree standing tall in front of my mother’s house, that was a task I wanted to accomplish, but wasn’t old enough to tackle. not big enough, not strong enough. today, I could do it.
trees are strong, and firm. they are resilient and they don’t break when a storm comes through. though branches crack and leaves fall, the tree remains. it regrows, it heals itself. the tree endures, reaching to the sky, building on its roots, its trunk and the branches that stretch into the air, filling the space and screaming out the world I am Here.
I am Here.
trees come in many shapes, many sizes, many colors. they shed their leaves, they drop their pines, and they regrow. they continue to reach. and just like the tree outside my mother’s house, when a storm comes and knocks me off my feet, I will continue to stretch myself in the world, growing and building and screaming out I am Here.