Maria J, SIMPLE

The Tree
I'm sure I've told you this, or have I? But just once, when I was a young boy I recall waking to the sun on my face and the rumble and bounce of our old car. I was far in the back seat, asleep as I often was at that age of six. I don't know what called me to wake but now I remember once again, what I was given on that summer day in south central New Jersey. And as I looked out, through the panel windows of our old station wagon, both my parents in the front seat and all five children in tow, I saw the tree. That one lone tree. It was a great oak. Across the wide, knee high cornfield I saw it, standing alone, and tall and grand it was. Suddenly I could appreciate how a farmer of the garden state some one hundred years ago or so had left that tree alone to continue to grow, perhaps just a sapling as he cleared the entire field of other trees and rocks to prepare it for planting and the harvest of crops that grew so well in the rich, eastern soil of America. But he has left that one, lone tree which on that day stood so tall and strong. "Had it sprung from just an acorn?" I asked myself. And though it passed my window in only a few seconds as we were driving fast, I could see still the glistening of the sun across all its broad leaves far off in the distance of flat, planted corn that sprawled in all directions from that great, great tree.

In that very moment, in witness to the greatness of all creation of that tree I thought, "I am alive. This is life! No matter how long I should live, I can remember, I can remember that great tree." As I closed my eyes to burn the image of the tree, the corn, the sun, the woods far behind...all careening by at great speed, I knew that I could indeed remember that tree, that moment in life when I realized my life and my mortality in one, brief moment. With my eyes still closed I was empowered with knowing that I could forever remember that tree, the sun, the corn, the woods far behind, because I had chosen to burn that moment into my mind. I suddenly knew that when I would become an old man, God granting, that I would still recall the beautiful image so burned in my mind. I prayed that God would allow me to recall that image in my mind even when I would become a very old man. Again, be careful for what you ask my son. But the thought gave me joy; it gave me life though I told neither a brother nor sister, mother or father of my awakening.
Time would pass and for months I would find myself daydreaming in my first grade class. The tree, I can see it. I can see the corn, the sun, the leaves, the woods far off. I can see it and I cannot pay attention to my studies. The memory became painful, not only had my prayer to remember the tree been granted, indeed I could not forget it! No matter how hard I tried, I could not focus on my studies and became fully preoccupied with the vision burned in my memory of that tree. In time it became obsessive. The tree became "that damned tree". It was bothersome as once I recalled its majesty; I could no longer focus on anything.
As time often does, little by little, I began to forget the tree. The time between its recollection lengthened but still its image would return. Perhaps ten years had passed when only occasionally I would remember the tree. With a smile I would recall its grandeur, its majesty and with such crystal clear clarity, I could see it as though it were only seconds before having closed my eyes to test my ability to remember. And as the years would continue to pass, the days would be many between my recollections of that great, old tree. I have no doubt that now it has fallen and faded into what once was, though its energy lives on in the mind of one who was once a young boy travelling in the back seat of an old family car.
Many years have now passed. Only rarely does the memory of that tree come back to mind and each and every time it does it makes me smile as it reminds me of my life, of life, of all that is, of all that was and of all that will ever be. But the memory now is fond because it is so rare now. I always smile at what had been so troubling as a boy. Its recollection mostly comes from the memory of the greatest of my life's experiences. Today you made me remember once more that great tree, the corn, the fields, the sun on the leaves, the farmer, the rocks, the woods in the distance, the car and its rumble, my family and my life and of all that was, is, and all that will ever be. And when I am an old, old man I pray here and now that, just as I hope to remember that great oak tree, that I will forever remember you, the woman I love, the lady, the mother, the one to whom I have given all of me and I beg mercy that I may once again know the joy that has come with knowing you and the love you have given me, the love we shared. May God grant me this though humbly I pray.
I love you as much as I love life itself,