Talk of the Trees

The Wind ran through the trees, skipping in and out of the sunlight, dancing in uneven rhythm as it played with the needles and leaves. The Pines laughed as their branches bobbed up and down, the lapping creek joining in the mirth. It was a beautiful day - an idyllic scene; everyone was reflecting the glory of the Creator - even Pial Pine who was the tallest of the tall trees, and sometimes found it difficult to move on account of his size. He swayed back and forth, enjoying today’s song to the Creator.

A sudden hush came over the forest, as the snapping of twigs on the footpath grew louder. Who could that be? Pial wondered. No one has ventured this far in years! The trees had nearly forgotten the sound of man - the rich tones of his voice. Pial quickly shook his branches and sent remnants of the past sailing: dead needles, clumps of moss, and straw gathered by birds who stayed with him now and then. He shook himself clean, then stood as straight and as tall as his trunk would allow. He wanted to be at his finest for the Creator’s sons and daughters, who bore the image of their Father. They didn’t always act royally, but royalty they were.

He missed their visits, which were so rare now - missed hearing them hum or talk or marvel at the beauty of the creation. He felt proud when their love for God grew, simply by seeing His beauty and majesty in the forest: the vibrancy and joy of the Creek, the fortitude of the Rocks, the grandeur of the Trees. They all got to tell part of His story, just as the sons and daughters did. So Pial was ready to play his part. He never forgot the Creator’s words in the Letter of Life: “...what may be known about God is plain to them, because God has made it plain to them. For since the creation of the world God’s invisible qualities - his eternal power and divine nature - have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that men are without excuse.” (Romans 1:19-20)

As the Prince approached, his slumping shoulders and sad expression conveyed what words could not: brokenness. Pial had seen this look many times before. It was often what led men to the deep part of the woods, where no one could witness the depth of unrest they felt. This was a brokenness that didn’t disappear with a heavy workout, a nice vacation, or even the comforting arms of a loved one. He wasn’t carrying anything, he just looked heavy.

Look up! Pial thought. The Creator is here. We’ll show him to you! See my fine, rich color, and how tall I stand? Listen to the rippling water as it rolls over the Rocks. Feel the warmth of the Sun on your face… these all come from Him, and you do too! It was no use… trees don’t talk!! I have to do something, Pial thought, Men aren’t supposed to live this way. With all the energy he could muster, he shook his heaviest branch, snapping old, dried twigs as they brushed against other branches. Bullseye!! One of the larger ones fell a few feet in front of the Prince, just beyond Pial’s trunk.

Startled, the Prince stopped and looked up. “Wow, that’s a tall tree!!” Pial strained to add one more inch to his height. Looking around, the Prince thought, It’s beautiful here. Taking a deep breath in, he sighed. I guess this is a good place to take a break.

As he sat against Pial’s large, sturdy trunk, some of the tension began to ease. It felt good to sit. The Prince was always walking, always going. The peaceful sound of the Creek was the only noise he heard, and the silence drew his attention to the pain. “God, I don’t know what to do… “