One Amazing Maple

A maple tree can grow anywhere, if given a chance. A crack in the cement, a rose garden or between a pile of wood. Such was our maple.

We had a wood pile on the ground in our back yard. It was pushed against the back fence and was forgotten. It consisted of bricks, timber and the discarded dreams of being a garage one day.

Time goes by and sometimes, dreams do too. But not us kids, we saw the opportunity to let our imaginations go wild. I don't know if craft paper and crayons were involved but I could just see myself designing it. It was a grand wood fort. It had a roof and inside a small dwelling that was just big enough to hide in during snowball fights and hide and seek. I don't know how that little maple penetrated the walls of our fort but right smack in the middle of it, it began to grow. We didn't even notice it at first. It was fertilized by the laughter of children. It grew happily and we did too.

The back yard changed a bit as we grew. The fort was torn down and a flower garden took its place. Now, that much bigger tree was free to grow without obstructions. It kept growing thirsting for the laughter of children playing in the yard. 

Time goes by which it often does and things had changed. We were older; us kids and that tree. No snowball fights or hide and seek. We had new games to play. Baseball, Hockey and football. Yes there was still laughter and total joy. That great maple basked in its glory. Truly a grand family tree.

Between clinging and surrender there is a life, lived to completion. Every leaf falls and a new leaf is born. Every leaf once caressed by the morning sun will be taken away with the wind. The wind is called change. Everything changes too soon. 

One day a small crack began to trickle down the trunk it was the beginnings of the heartaches to follow. It seemed as we grew up, if we suffered loss, it suffered too. The crack grew longer and tears of sap and moisture ran down its trunk but that old maple stood tall, lush and green. 

How do you mend a broken heart? Chains

My father was the kindest man I've ever known. I don't know what possessed him to do it but he wrapped a chain around the heart of that tree, used his Popeye arms and winched it securely. It was for the love of his family. It was for the love of a fond memory, looking out the window at his three boys having the time of their lives. It was with gratitude and thanksgiving, if only for a while. Sometimes you have to put a chain around a heart and hold on. Our parents were the chains around our hearts. It worked, that tree grew and so did we.

That old maple grew around the chains. The chains that kept its heart beating all these years. Now, the chain is old and rusty and it's a few layers deep. Like the chains on my own heart. Still beating, still thirsting.

When we sold the house on Buckingham it was a sad time. The tree was barely hanging on and so were we. Barely hanging on. Sometimes that's all we can do. But we must hang on. Hang on to joy. Hang on to hope. Hang on to our memories and hang on to our blessings. 

Life lessons for kids:

Find a pile of wood, build a fort and if  you happen to see a little twig coming out of the ground, let the tree grow. We did and oh what a tree it was. Thank you my old friend. Thank you.