Making things grow and bloom is not easy. It requires intentional work, tilling the ground, adding some good soil, providing the right food.
Daily watering to quench thirst and protect from the blazing sun that gives life but can also scorch and burn.
Last week my grandfather gave me some bare root plants and tree saplings he received in the mail. Some he had requested months before from a nursery catalog. After planting two rose bushes in his yard he realized digging holes and planting is no longer a good activity for him at 92 years old. Another joy given up.
The ten tiny tree saplings were mailed to him by the Arbor Day Foundation after he gave them a donation. He’s always donating to various non-profits. He had no use for them but my backyard is an vast un-landscaped plot of shadeless grass.
I put the daylillys he gave me in the front garden. Beneath the soil and mulch I can’t see them but I hope they will grow.
In the back yard I dug big holes for two more rose bushes that looked like a dead mess of sticks and roots. The book that accompanied the plants assured me they were not dead, only dormant. They WILL grow, it said. So I mixed in some good soil and gave them a long drink.
One by one my son and I dug deep, small holes for the tiny dry tree saplings we were given. I had a list of what kind of trees they were; dogwood, crepe myrtle, maple, etc. But they all look the same to me right now. Not really any distinguishing features. Tiny twigs with small roots rising out of the ground only a foot or two.
We put them in the dirt and gave them a drink. After the labor of planting in the hot, sticky air we watched the sun go down over the houses. The Texas sky turned pink and purple. We took our nightly rest.
A miracle happened while we weren’t looking. Tender new growth appeared on once dry twigs. Microscopic buds and leaves and shoots from dormant branches.
There is a
beautiful song by Andrew Peterson that speaks of Planting Trees.
We chose the spot, we dug the hole
We laid the maples in the ground to have and hold
As Autumn falls to Winters sleep
We pray that somehow in the Spring
The roots grow deep
And many years from now
Long after we are gone
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless the dawn
He took a plane to Africa
He gathered up into his arms
An orphan son
So many years from now
Long after we are gone
This tree will spread its branches out
And bless the dawn
So sit down and write that letter
Sign up and join the fight
Sink in to all that matters
Step out into the light
Let go of all that’s passing
Lift up the least of these
Lean into something lasting
Planting trees
She rises up as morning breaks
She moves among these rooms alone
Before we wake
And her heart is so full; it overflows
She waters us with love and the children grow
So many years from now
Long after we are gone
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless the dawn
These trees will spread their branches out
And bless someone
This is the kind of planting I have been doing much of lately. Watering children with love. Joining the fight for the overlooked and abandoned. Sinking in to what matters. Having faith that someday, a long time from now, this planting will yield beautiful fruit.
What have you been planting?
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Last week my grandfather gave me some bare root plants and tree saplings he received in the mail. Some he had requested months before from a nursery catalog. After planting two rose bushes in his yard he realized digging holes and planting is no longer a good activity for him at 92 years old. Another joy given up. 
