we have a child who loves trees.
he loves to swing in them,
climb in them,
sing about them,
read about them:
and mourn them.
that's right. mourn them.
Sage had a tree, a beautiful tall and mighty tree outside his window. That tree got old, and sick and possibly dangerous (being so close to the window) and so it was time to say goodbye to the tree.
and in the midst of the limbs dropping with a thud to the ground, he kind of lost his mind and panicked about the loss of the tree and ran into the house with tears on his cheeks.
my sweet boy.
but I pulled one of the tree workers aside, a good friend of ours actually, who completely understood where I was coming from when I said, "can you save a chunk or something? Sage is freaking out and I want him to have a piece of his tree".
our friend left a good, funky shaped chunk on our porch... and Sage spent a good amount of time hugging the chunk:
we put the chunk on the table, walked away for a bit to decide how the chunk was going to a part of our house... would he paint it? would he color on it with marker? would he want to take the bark off and carve in it? We walked back to the table to have another look...and then we saw this... a perfect tiny red star... a little teeny star hanging out, in the fresh cut tree chunk. Can you see it? Can you believe that it grew there?
So now we have a boy who loves trees... and believes in magic. Magic trees heal mourning hearts as far as he's concerned