An experience came to mind recently, something I
believe I’ve shared before, but I sense it’s something I need to touch on once
again. Years ago, in the days following my father’s death, my husband & I
helped my mother and my younger siblings pack and prepare to move. In the midst
of the confusion, a plant that had been in our family for years was stashed
inside of an open truck. By the time we arrived at our destination, this poor
plant looked like it had been through a war. Its leaves were shredded, and it
drooped horribly, but my mother didn’t have the heart to throw it away.
Instead, she gave it to me, hoping I could nurse it back to health.
My husband and I lived about two hours away from
where the rest of my family would be residing for a while. After we helped get
everyone settled, we returned to our home with our infant son. The plant I had
been given was placed in a corner and pretty much forgotten. This plant was at least as old as I was. It had been
given to my parents when I was very young. A dracaena palm tree, it tended to
grow quite lush and tall. When I inherited the plant, it was shorter from a
recent pruning, and in a dilapidated state compliments of the move. It
resembled what I felt like on the inside of my heart.
I kept it in a distant corner, where I didn’t have
to look at it very often. I watered it when I watered my other plants, but I
didn’t give it any special attention. Then one day, an observant friend looked
at that plant, and then at me. “Why aren’t you giving that plant a chance to
access any light?” she asked. Though I had given it water, no light could shine
on its leaves, the very thing that would help it thrive. It had tried to
survive, but now it was dying—the leaves had yellowed, and I wasn’t sure I
could save it. That’s when it dawned on me that I had been secretly
hoping the reminder of my dad’s demise would fade away. I felt a bit ashamed of
myself. Had I been wallowing in self-pity so much that I was neglecting things
of importance?
Struck by the symbolism of that small tree, I pulled
it out of the corner and trimmed off the dead leaves. I found a new place for
it in the bright sunshine and gave it the attention it required. Within a
couple of weeks, it began showing new signs of life and started to flourish.
Giving it the nourishment it needed gave it the strength to survive its
traumatic ordeal. I was so touched by all of this that I wrote a poem
about it:
Regeneration
It was kept in a
darkened corner
Where light and
warmth could not penetrate
A reminder of
all that had gone before
Slowly, green
faded into yellow
Then brown
At times it was
pruned
But nurturing
was limited
Gradually it
slipped into partiality
Until one day
A chance beam of
light
Dared glimmer on
the withered leaves
Struggling
through a forest of night
Reaching through
leaves, stem, and decaying roots
It had been
forgotten--this beacon from the past
Stored for a
time
When strength
could absorb
The offering of
light
Awakening
joy--pain--happiness--and sorrow
New life passing
from roots to stem to leaves
Rebirth from the
darkened past
Brought it forth
into light
Where brown
embraced yellow
Then green
Leaves reaching
now beyond the rooted pain
Of mortal
existence
Toward the hope
of light
And truth
Green with the
knowledge
Of warmer days.
Cheri J. Crane
As you may have guessed, this small tree
was symbolic of the healing journey I endured following my father’s suicide. It
still exists, taller now than it has been in years. It is a reminder that despite the heartaches of this life, we
can go forward and flourish, with the right nourishment. It is indeed those
small and simple things that help us to endure challenging days: prayer,
studying the scriptures, church and temple attendance, all of those items
that nurture our spirit. When we neglect those things, we tend to wither. And
currently, we live in a time when we each need to be as strong as we can
possibly be as the adversary steps up his assault on all that is good. We can
survive anything, as long as the gospel light shines within our hearts. It is
that light that gives us the hope to face each day, knowing it will all be
worth it in the end.
