Tree

There was this little tree. It grew from a concrete barricade in the middle of the road and I would pass it every morning coming off of the 78 highway in A-town. It was a desolate lonely little tree. One who glances at it may think of it more as a bush. But I know differently. I saw it from the very beginning and it was a little evergreen tree. And rising out of that cold concrete barricade, it stood as proudly as any tree ever could. 

I smiled every time I saw it. It grew in a place where no little tree should grow. It grew against impossible odds, against harsh weather, harsh traffic and no soil. Starting as a small little sprout, it grew into a stubble, the then into the most perfect little which could ever grow from a stark concrete barricade. It oddly comforted me during my pandemic commute. 

And then, true life happened and intervened. I drove past one morning and it had died. Was it the weather elements? The constant exhaust? The lack of water or soil? Possibly all three. But it was not for a lack of love. 

I grew to love seeing that little tree struggling against the barricade, reaching towards the sky. I feel lucky that I saw it over the year from its birth to death. I appreciated its life in adverse circumstances. How lucky are any of us to see something from birth to death. I took it in, noticed it, and enjoyed its short existence.   

Sometimes, I feel it's necessary to notice the small, the meek, the downtrodden. I recognize that they face adversity yet still thrive as long as they can. Some do thrive and continue on to become masterful, grand ... beautiful. Some do not make it and die. However, it gives us hope that those who are underdogs can achieve success in whatever circumstance they're destined for.