There once was a father who built a house for his family. When they moved into the house, the father planted a tree in the back yard. It was just a tiny tree with promise. It would become a strong tree with branches stretched out across the yard. The family grew and the tree grew.
The family stood by the tree to capture family pictures, gathered for picnics under the tree and relaxed in the shade of the tree. The mother would grow pots of plants and herbs under the tree and squirrels would run up and down its trunk in search of food. Birds would build nests high in the tree. Life happened and the tree was there - always.
The children grew and moved away and the tree was still there. The children would marry and bring their husbands or wives and their own children to gather under the tree.
The tree would sing a tune as the wind rustled its branches. The branches would tap dance on the roof and against the windows. Even in the worst storms and the harshest winds, the tree stood tall.
In the summer, the tree would stand firm against the
heat of the sun and bring shade to the family. In the fall the tree would shed its leaves, and in the spring it grew tiny buds and sprinkled the ground with whirlygigs. The children would pick them up and throw them into the air watching them spin and dance to the ground. In the winter, the tree reached out with its bare branches and stood tall against the wind and the cold. The tree stood tall season after season.
Years followed years. The trunk of the tree grew broad and round. It was part of the family and it marked the many happy memories over the years.
The family was sad the day the father left this world, but the tree was still there in the back yard just where he had planted it. One day the tree began to grow weak. Branches would drop to the ground and scatter themselves around the back yard.
It was time for the tree to rest. It was time for the tree to lay down its branches. It had served the family well.
It was strength and hope.
It was dreams and happiness. It was love.