July 20, 1999
Katrina,
I’ve been thinking lately, Sister, about giving, about returning something of what we’ve received. Mother and Father were always teaching us about giving back, about being grateful, about adding to the common good so that good would surround us. Can you recall, Sister, how Father replanted two trees for every tree he used to build The Oak? Or, how Mother would work with the other ladies about town to be certain that all of the families had enough food to get through the winter or enough blankets to survive a cold spell? And, here at The Oak, special care was taken to be certain that those people who helped care for The Oak were well taken care of themselves, it being important to Father and Mother that those employed here were happy, without need, and carrying the feeling within that The Oak was as much their home as ours.
Over the last few years, just as when Mother was alive, charity balls and auctions have been held here at The Oak, raising money for all sorts of organizations, political, social, and those protecting the land and the animals. And, during that time, I’ve tried to do what I can, writing checks mostly and attending functions as my health has allowed.
But, the trees here on the property, well, now that’s something in which The Oak has always taken pride. I feel a need to protect the trees here at The Oak because, on several occasions, they have hovered above me and done all they could to help, times when my Sister could not be with me. The trees have aged for generations, a desire to live grown from deep within their roots and a willingness to share their knowledge with the world reaching out through their branches... if only the world will listen. And, up on the mountain, where the trees can view the valleys, if one sits quietly, the trees will shake about their leaves and move their limbs, telling the story of their life and of all that they know of the world.
Every year since Father died, as Father did prior to his death, many of the fields are farmed. Yet, any one tree destroyed by man or by nature is replaced with two trees. Whenever possible, new acreage has been bought solely for the purpose of the planting of trees and part of the original acreage that Father purchased is for only the trees to enjoy. I think Mother and Father would have been proud of how The Oak has grown in size and continued to honor the trees about the property, particularly the ones that built this house.
But, is it enough? Is it ever enough? Can any one ever give just enough or give too much? No, I should think that, if that were possible, there would not be any injustice in the world, no need; for need is created when we do not all share in the responsibility of giving, the privilege of giving to our own common good.
But, the trees know and The Oak knows, don’t they Sister, about the importance of giving, of that truth buried deep within each living thing that connects us all, one to another; of the need we all have to give and to receive from others. That is the secret that has kept the Earth living for so long; it is one of the many secrets to life.
The Earth, the birds, the trees, the waters all work together, caring not of pride or expense or hierarchies, knowing that working together will bring life for all. But, humans have never really learned to work together, and suffering has resulted. Why is it, Katrina, that so many are unable to see their importance in this world, their importance to others, their role in the web of life? Why do some people feel such a need to force their power upon others, to destroy another at their innermost core? Think of what the world would be like if humans were like the planet, the elements, all caring one for another; like the trees and the waters and the land and the animals working together, torches of goodness being passed on as easily as the seasons change. Think of what the world would be like if we worked much harder to find the good within ourselves, within others, within all of us.
But, the Earth is able to find the good in all, the trees lending a branch to the birds, the birds singing a song to the stream, the stream quenching the thirst of both. The trees and the flowers birth their seeds, packages picked up by the bees and the wind, dropped to the Earth below, and nurtured by the soil. The rain gently knocks on the door of the mountaintop, and the mountains direct the rain into the streams below, streams that will feed the trees and house the fish and nurture the soil. Together, they will work and they will flourish.
But, perhaps that is too much to ask of a creature that, at its worst, is so capable of harm toward its own. Yet, history has shown us, time and time again, of humanity at its best, of hearts reaching out to one another like the branch to the bird, willing to be a friend, willing to help. So, that must mean that somewhere, within each living being, is goodness. Right?
I miss you, Sister. You were the one who always seemed to have the answers.
Forever,
Christina
No comments:
Post a Comment