“In the embrace of spring, apple blossoms bloom like whispers of hope.”
~ Anonymous
“And it has an old apple tree by the pond,” I remember my husband saying over the phone, as he described our new to us property on Prince Edward Island. He had taken a two day drive to visit the new property before the rest of the family viewed it.
An apple tree and a pond … how delightful, I thought, dreaming up relaxing afternoons, reading by the pond or catching frogs together with the children. I’ve always wanted a pond! And having an old apple tree on the property is such a nod to the romance of the past, as well … how I would appreciate that tree!
At that time, three years ago, we were just planning our family move across provinces – from one country home to another. We were leaving behind many treasured landmarks that I held dear to my heart – cherished memories and sweet places of remembrance from my many years of mothering in our old home. Knowing we were moving to another century home (of course, my favourite and the only kind of house I think I could possibly live in properly) and going to have the Atlantic Ocean just a slight walk from our back porch made my heart excited for the new adventure, of new places to hold and make lovely memories.
“And the ocean is right there,” he continued, detailing what he saw on our new to us property. I was so proud of my husband – one who does not agree to adventure quickly. His personality is steady and solid – therefore, making this change together was something very special to me.
But now, a few years in and after we had settled quite nicely, a terrible storm had descended upon the island. As a result, our special apple tree lay damaged and broken.
The old tree had fallen onto on our grassy field, ravaged by a terrible winds. We had left the sweet tree until the spring came, to deal with the clean up in warmer weather. Now, as my husband started up his chainsaw and began cutting, hacking away limb by limb, I felt a sadness deep down …
“Wait,” I said, trying to divert his attention, “Wait, maybe it will be okay … maybe there’s hope for it still!”
My husband silenced his chainsaw, looked at me with doubt and a little bit of scorn, perhaps.
“It’s dead,” he replied, matter of factly. “Apple wood makes great fire wood.”
Investigating the branches that he had cut, I noticed one tiny detail.
“Look, there’s tiny pink buds already! It’s not fully dead,” I said, pleading with hope.
Sighing, my husband ceased his chainsaw and packed it away. Life went not – I forgot about the incident until this morning when one of my daughters came into the house, carrying the sweetest bouquet of apple blossoms.
“It’s so pretty down there, mommy,” she said. “The tree is all pink and it’s just gorgeous!”
I knew it! My heart leaped with joy! What a beautiful sight indeed – our apple tree in blossom!
God is so good to give me this little gift, for I do see these little miracles as presents from our Heavenly Father.
Perhaps our old apple tree will not make it another winter, perhaps it will come for a time when she will be made into firewood — but for now, she is thriving and in full beautiful pink, glory.
by Gigi
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