A Song for the Son

The Winter Willow Wept

Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus. I Thessalonians 5:16-18

At the bottom of a snow covered hill, on the bank of a frozen river, the winter willow wept.

“Why are you crying?” asked the small boy.

“I think I might be Job,” said the willow.

Through frozen tears the willow’s eyes moved from his empty branches to the icy river and he continued,  “All that I had has been taken from me.  All that I had has been lost.”

“What about spring?” asked the boy.

“What is spring?” asked the winter willow.

“Spring is hope,” replied the boy.

The willow sighed and turned his head, but as he did he caught a glimpse of tiny buds on his branches and swore he saw the river ice shift.

The boy smiled and trudged on through the melting snow.

—

In the middle of a great forest, at the centre of a small clearing, the mighty maple mumbled.

“What are you mumbling about?” asked the small boy.

“I fear that others think I’m weak,” said the maple.

“I think I’ll build a swing,” said the boy.

“What?  Where?” replied the tree.

“Right there,” he said pointing straight back at the maple.

At that thought the maple shrugged her massive frame, but as her branches settled back she felt strength in places she hadn’t for a long time.

The boy smiled and threw a rope over a low hanging branch.

—

At the top of a grassy hill, in the middle of a green pasture, the lonely oak tree grumbled.

“Why are you grumbling?” asked the boy.

“Leave me alone,”  said the oak, “I’m happiest when I’m all by myself.”

“I think I’ll climb you,” said the boy.

“I don’t like to be climbed,” said the oak.

But the boy was already halfway up, and as he settled into a spot where two branches met he pulled out a comic book and sighed into the tree’s embrace.

And the oak tree rocked him gently as he read himself to sleep.

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