Friendships are like trees.
They start as little seedlings that could die in heat or frost—or continue to grow.
Then they could grow into little, wispy saplings with a few tiny leaves,
Whipped by the winds, standing alone in the cold,
Withering in the heat, and not sheltered from wind, cold, or heat,
Clinging on by shallow roots.
Or they could, defying the odds, continue to grow.
Until that tiny seedling grows into a mighty oak,
With branches that reach out to touch the other great oaks nearby,
Shading, protecting, and growing together.
Their roots keep growing deeper and wider buntil they tap into,
Until taped into, and nourished by, a common source.
That is what the best friendships are like