“Look at everything always as though you were seeing it either for the first or last time: Thus is your time on earth filled with glory.”
― Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
Once upon a Willow, tree that is, a young girl did gaze. The picture book open to this dog eared page. One day I will have this, growing in my yard. I know that I can do it. I know it won’t be hard.
As the girl grew up, this book with her did go. Not often would she open it, but it was nice to know. To know the book was with her, reminding her her dream She wondered as life marched along if it was in life’s scheme.
Busy getting married, rearing children the years quickly flew. It wasn’t until they all were gone, that she somehow knew. To go back where it started, when once a little child, where dreams of a Willow, spoke to her so loud.
A new abode was built, she planted gleefully. The last thing she planted, was that Willow tree. She placed it so she’d see it, when on her porch she sat, her life dream complete, she had no regret. From book to full fruition, her tree did swiftly grow. She wondered at the end of life who would love it so. When her days were over, another came that You know. A niece who in a book, with a Willow displayed, looked about and decided, she would also stay. All because that Willow, gracefully called her name. Her love as with her Aunts, remained the same.
Sitting on her porch, while writing this you see…gazing at the Willow and wondering what will be. Will there be another, coming this way, who will love the graceful Willow…then decide to stay.