Article December 2, 1916 Issue

Lesson from a Tree

ABBY BEECHER ABBOTT

When the home was built twenty-five years ago a shapely sycamore was planted, and each year added to its beauty and matchless dignity. The tree became a part of the home. Its proud owner, a true lover of trees, watched its growth and gloried in the fact that he had the finest tree in the neighborhood. The birds flew to the tallest branches and sang their morning carols. During the heat of the day the children played beneath its sheltering boughs, and late in the afternoon its grateful shade protected the home from the hot summer sun. It was vigorous, useful, and beautiful.

Then the day came when the fact dawned on the tree lover that this beautiful, useful tree was nevertheless keeping the sunlight from his much loved flower garden. To consult a tree expert seemed the wise course to pursue, but the verdict was a trying one: "All the lower limbs must come off." To sacrifice this beauty was a severe ordeal, but it must be done to let in the light. One by one the branches fell under the hand of the skilful pruner, until the tree stood more shapely and beautiful than ever with its lofty branches lifted to the sky. Now the sunlight could shed its radiance over the flowers which were being dwarfed by the constant shade.

On page 84 of "Miscellaneous Writings" Mrs. Eddy says, "A true sense of the falsity of material joys and sorrows, pleasures and pains, takes them away, and teaches Life's lessons aright," and out of this experience I gained a valuable lesson. Our earth life appears like the tree—beautiful, vigorous, and glowing with growing interests and sweet delights. Our higher thoughts reach heavenward; our earth thoughts ever hide the all-encompassing light which forever sheds its radiance and is only hidden for a time by our material desires and pleasures. The call for the vision of more light reaches the heart of the earnest seeker. Our "inner guide," the expert of all true living, soon reveals to us what must be cut away in order to bring that glowing radiance into our lives. Worldly ambition, the lust of the flesh, the pride of life, and all unworthy desires must be severely dealt with to let the light of God's presence bring to fruitage the flowers of spirituality so long hidden by materialism. Then our lives, grander and nobler than before, reach ever toward the light, testifying to the victory of Spirit. No sacrifice can be called too great which reveals the sunlight of Truth and Love to a sindarkened world. I have learned many a lesson from the book of nature, which reveals not the knowledge of Solomon but the wisdom of the gentle Nazarene.

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