Just a Tree

Across the street from where I live was an empty wooded lot, with many tall trees, some probably 80 years old. Someone is now building a house there. I was hoping that they would conserve as many trees as possible, and I think they are trying to do that. I came home from work one day and some small trees and two large trees were down. Although it was a bit sad, I reminded myself that some of the trees would have to go to make room for the new house.

The next day I came home, and workers were in the process of cutting down one of the huge trees. Seeing the tree in the process of being cut down was a little more troubling to me. It was on the corner of the lot and I was thinking to myself that it wasn’t it the way of anything. Why was it necessary to cut down this one? I couldn’t dismiss my feelings of sadness this time, because I was seeing the tree alive and standing tall, and knew that shortly it was going to be lying across the ground.

It's a living, thriving tree...

I tried to push away my feelings of sadness for the tree, and found myself intrigued with how the men would bring this giant tree down. I went inside my house and kept returning to the front window to check the progress. It was a slow process... after all, it was nearly three feet in diameter at the point where the tree was being cut. I had been going back and forth from doing chores inside our home and looking out the window. Each time I returned to the window to look at the tree, I felt a little more connected to it. I kept telling myself, “Jeanne, it’s only a tree.” However, another part of me was saying, “It’s a living, thriving tree, and its life is about to come to an end.”

I noticed the worker doing the sawing seemed to fit the stereotype of a lumberjack... hard hat and red plaid flannel shirt. As I focused on him, feelings of anger toward him were surfacing inside me. “He’s just doing the job he was hired to do,” I tried to convince myself.

What kind of a man...

By now I was feeling sorrow for the tree. The man would saw for a while, then drive wedges into the cut with a hammer. Over and over... saw and hammer, cut deeper and insert bigger wedges and hammer harder. I was amazed that the tree did not move. The sawing and the wedges were widening the gap at the base of the tree, yet it did not move. I positioned myself right up against our picture window and looked up for the first time. As the chainsaw was cutting into the tree, I saw the high branches moving... trembling. Trembling! Oh my, this beautiful tree is feeling the pain of the cut... it knows its life is almost over. I quietly said to the tree, “I’m here with you. It’ll be okay. You’ll go back to the earth, and help make more beautiful trees.” I knew it heard me, but the branches still shook. I knew then I would stay with the tree until it came down. It was hard to bear though. I couldn’t stop crying. I was both sad and angry, shouting “What kind of man can do this for a living!”

He knelt down...

Well, immediately God showed me what kind of a man could do this for a living. The lumberjack stopped his chainsaw and I heard him call to his co-workers. “Okay, this next cut’s going to be it! Make sure you’re all out of the way!”

He then removed his hard hat... walked around to the other side of the tree... and knelt down on one knee in front of it.

He remained in that position for some time. His coworkers quietly went about their jobs, holding cables, moving out of the way. After what must have been three or four minutes, the man stood up, looked up at the big tree once again, put his hard hat back on, and went back to doing the job he was hired to do.

He did his job well, continuing the process of alternating sawing and driving larger wedges into the tree so that it would fall in the correct direction. And then the moment came. TIMBER! With a loud crash that startled our quiet little neighborhood, this magnificent tree, which had lived on this street for some 80 years... was down.

My lumberjack immediately removed his hard hat again... walked around and briefly knelt down once more in front of what was now a large tree stump.

My God gently said to me, “Jeanne, this is the kind of man who can do this kind of job.” Yes, a man who has reverence for all forms of life... a man who does his job with the utmost skill... and with utmost love.

The first lesson I recognized in this experience is not to judge other people... I can never know all that is in the heart of another. I also learned that when you ask a question in earnest, seeking the truth... God will answer. In this instance the answer came immediately. Perhaps most importantly, I learned – actually remembered what I already knew – that the earth is alive. There’s not anything that’s just a tree, just a mountain, just a river... it’s not just a butterfly on the other side of the world... it’s all alive. As our feet touch this earth and everything that’s in it... all things and all people are connected.

As I shared this story with a group of co-workers, one of them told me, “Even as that grand tree was falling to the ground, it was giving you a beautiful story about life itself.” Yes, the tree had purpose in its last moments and you and I are blessed to be the recipient of its wisdom.