From Acorn to Tree.

“What are you doing with that acorn?” Jimmy Squirrel said to his best friend Tom.
“It’s the perfect size,” Tom replied. “I’m going to drop it in the big field.”
“What for?” Jimmy queried.
“`Cause a huge oak is just a nut that held its ground,” Tom smiled and the banter began.  Every fall they played at words while collecting food for winter.

“You did that last year,” Jimmy quipped.
“Yeah,” Tom grunted.
“Didn’t work,” Jimmy jabbed.
“Failure is the fertilizer of success,” Tom retorted.
“Didn’t work the year before either,” Jimmy stabbed.
“The greatest weakness lies in giving up,” Tom claimed. “The best way to succeed is to always try one more time.”
Jimmy scratched his ear.  “What if it never works?”
“The only reason you’re sitting in the shade right now is because someone planted a tree a long time ago.” Tom smiled in satisfaction.

“That doesn’t mean it’s going to work for you,” Jimmy gloated.
“Failure is the condiment that gives success its flavor,” Tom fired back.
“You’re not even going to live long enough to eat any of the nuts.” Jimmy batted his eyebrows.
“I’d rather sow in the spring than beg in the fall,” Tom nodded. “We all know that success is a matter of luck.  All you have to do is ask any failure.”
“Ouch!” Jimmy winced. “That’s harsh. Are you always this poetic?”
“Only when it comes to acorns. If you can’t be the poet, be the poem.”

“Why don’t you store that nut in your cupboard for a snowy, February morning?”
“`Cause I want to grow a tree, Jimmy,” Tom said quietly. “Nobody is remembered for how many times they failed—only by how many times they succeeded. No one will remember the fallen acorns but all will gaze upon the oak scratching the sky.”
“Lot of work for not much reward,” Jimmy moaned.
“Anyone that argues for their own limitations gets to keep them. I never saw a statue put up for a critic.” Tom taunted his pal, egging him into debate.

“Even a broken clock is right twice a day,” Jimmy smirked.
“The harder I work the luckier I get,” Tom responded.
“Even a blind pig finds an ear of corn now and again,” Jimmy challenged. “Maybe you’ll get lucky.”
“One who wants milk shouldn’t sit in middle of a pasture waiting for a cow to back up to him.” Tom started walking.  “I’ll bury an extra acorn, for luck’s sake.”
Jimmy tugged his friend’s tail. “Sometimes you feel like a nut,” he sang, bursting into laughter.
“Sometimes you don’t,” Tom chuckled with him.

That’s A View From The Ridge…

____________________

 It is kind of fun to do the impossible.
Walt Disney 

It is not enough to be busy; so are the ants.  The question is: What are we busy about? 
Henry David Thoreau      

Key Points

I am always amazed by the seasons–they come and go without fail, year after year and even more often in each of our lives.  My brother passed away recently, giving rise to an immediate winter in my family.  Conditions were harsh, stormy, full of dark, gloomy days, an emotional freeze that seemed destined to never lift. 

This particular winter did not announce itself or give us warning.  It simply showed up, like an unexpected blizzard and left its frozen blanket coating us all.  In the aftermath, as is always the case, tiny buds beagan to surface–happy moments of joy that foreshadow the soon-to-come sunshine.  For now, the cold still lingers in our hearts, part of the long thaw we must all endure. 

I love and celebrate my brother and patiently, without ever forgetting winter’s woes, will confidently wait for the spring. 

Please share your thoughts with me… 

I always enjoy hearing from you!