Take a look around your home and I can guarantee you have something there that is made of wood. Cooking spoons, old picture frames, chairs, shelves. All these things came from one tree or another. Have you ever stopped to think about the life of the tree that was used to make the things we use? I have, and from the eyes of the tree, I wonder if it is happy as it is.
What I See.. I was just a seedling, carried away by a squirrel for a meal after winter. I hoped that I would be one of the lost seeds, so that I could grow. I was granted my wish. As the snow melted and watered the frozen soil, I felt my roots push out. I kept stretching until at last I broke through the soil and into the daylight. Just a sapling. It was such a beautiful place in the woods, right on the edge of this wide meadow. The sun shone right on me, and the rains filled me up. I grew quickly. I wasn’t the tallest tree, but I wasn’t the shortest any more.. Years had flown by and I was proud to stand at the edge of this place and guard the woods behind. Within my branches I sheltered a family of blue jays, an owl, and a couple of crazy, hyper squirrels. Months later, the sky was growing darker with smoke and a loud noise made all the creatures run, I was glad they did, no sooner had they run I was marked with the ‘x’ of death. This large machine came and hooked onto my once proud trunk and sliced me down. I was removed of my branches and chopped down to size. It hurt. My pieces were hauled off to a factory where I was sliced down more, made into long strips. I kept thinking, it might not be so bad, maybe I’ll be used as something strong, and beautiful. I didn’t get my wish. I was turned into a pallet, hauling from store to store loads of food and other items. I could have wept. Months went by and part of me broke away, that was when I was tossed into a scrap pile to be incinerated. I longed for the fire, I was so tired of being treated as if this was all that I was. I missed the wild flowers of the meadow, I missed the animals that lived in my once proud branches. A woman came by and put me into her truck, I supposed I would become firewood for a campfire. But she didn’t toss me aside, she gingerly moved me to the garage and the next day she started fixing me up! She painted my now ugly bark into a beautiful grey. What she did next made me very happy. She placed me on her front porch, looking out over a beautiful farm land and filled me with potted wildflowers. She chose me, a simple pallet, and made me into something more. Something beautiful. I had a new purpose, and I was once more proud.
So the next time you sit on those wooden chairs of yours, think of the seed that became the tree, that was cut down in its prime, to be made into a seat. Look beyond what you see, and find the story behind it, that is the way of the story teller.