THE GIVING TREE

Written 7/27/09 

There is a sculpture and jewelry gallery on route 6A in Cape Cod, called “The Giving Tree”.  The grounds are peaceful, tree covered and adorned with sculptures of every kind.  It is there to wander about and discover or to just be.  I decided to sit on a bench and write in this oasis of serenity.

Flanked by a playful metal dog on one side and a wise stone woman on the other, the intertwined tree branches before me are like none I’ve seen.  So graceful, they rise from the earth, bend softly to the side and meander along.  Braced by a post, they join, wrapped around each other and loop peacefully, lazing along in simplicity.  Suddenly they change, unexpectedly melding into mad disarray, like arms and legs entangled in passion.  They curve and twist, then split and divide into a jumble of form and beauty.  My eyes turn away, as if I’m intruding, and settle on a piece of slate on the ground below.  Written are the words “Come sit under the Giving Tree with me”.  I smile, knowing that I was lured to her before being invited, as if beckoned by the tree itself.  Intrigued by its shape, I wonder, what does the Giving Tree give?  What messages are hidden amongst her unusual beauty? 

 Up the tree climbed, woven around another, where she was taken to heights and places yet unseen.  She reached higher and higher, climbing the neighboring Cherry Tree in exploration.  As I watch her path and growth, I understand the gift the ‘Giving Tree’ has given to me.  In her expansion, is mine.  In her exploration, is mine.  In her time, is mine.  I, like her, stand the same; searching, sometimes alone or maybe connected, at times lost, other times found, moving forward hurriedly or taking my time, but always growing ever stronger – searching, reaching, seeing; always.

With gratitude for my newly learned lessons, I asked the grounds keeper what kind of tree is she?  He looked at me strangely then followed me there. “Ah, that is a bittersweet vine and it’s choking the Cherry Tree she’s wrapped around.”  Stunned, “you mean it’s that horribly invasive vine”?   It is so destructive in my yard.  And what about my new lesson – is it to be destroyed too; choked like the cherry tree, I wonder?   Then I remember thinking this morning of the times I’d been blind to the beauty in others, focusing instead on what seemed to be missing.  Not proud of myself, I vowed then and there, to open my eyes to look beyond the obvious.  Now I understand the tree’s even bigger gift to me. She is a visual reminder that beauty is always present, although sometimes deceptive or maybe not even apparent…. but it is there, just waiting for someone to notice.