A Lesson From My Orange Tree

A Lesson from My Orange Tree

There an orange tree in my yard that has been there for many years.

Most years it produces more fruit that we would ever use.

The branches buzz with bees when the orange blossoms are in bloom

And the whole yard is perfumed by the fragrance.

It has two neighbors, one is an Algerian tangerine

That seems to thrive regardless of what nature deals it.

The other is a lemon tree.

One year, despite our best efforts to cover them,

The orange and the lemon were hit with frost.

All of the foliage died and looked burned.

The lemon and the orange both looked dead,

Which made me very sad.

Frozen in December and trimmed of the dead foliage,

They spent January, February and some of March,

Looking like pathetic skeletons against the sky.

The bluer the sky, the deader they appeared.

But suddenly, seemingly overnight, in March—

Up from the ground sprang some healthy green stems.

A rebirth of the old tree.

And they grew and grew into a new tree.

That blossomed and later was laden with fruit,

More fruit than ever

Our lives are like that exactly.

We flourish at times, blossom, and bear fruit.

Then comes a frost that withers our spirit and desiccates our hopes.

It seems that we are finished.

But there is always a sprig of green that grows into something stronger and finer,

Than we have been.

That blossoms and bears good fruit,

Knowing full well that the frost could come again,

But so will the green that always sleeps in our roots.

If you reach down,

You will find what is always green.

Where there is hope, our roots never freeze.

Strength that blossoms and bears fruit,

Is resting within.