A tribute to my husband

So, I came home last night just exhausted from all the whirlwind with the groundbreaking, and Ed reminded me that we were going up to plant a tree with the Fan family. They had lost a son earlier in the year to a staph infection, and the school has a nice little tradition of planting trees for students that have died. I was not my chipper little self (snort), and got home late to boot, so had a rushed dinner and then was hurried out the door. Before we left, Ed showed me a couple of tree poems he had found, and asked if I would read one of them. I told him, not too enthusiastically, that if that was what he wanted to do, I would be glad to read one. We took them both with us.

Once we got there (early), we proceeded to take out all of the accoutrements that Ed had packed along. Thankfully, the hole was already dug for the tree, and had standing water in it from the lawn watering. Once the Fans got there, they put the tree in the hole and were very enthusiastic about the project. It was then that the enormity of what we were doing began to sink in. These kind people had lost their only son. Once the tree was in the hole and looking really nice, I offered to read the poem I thought would be more appropriate. I couldn't make it through without choking up. When I finished, I looked over to Mrs. Fan, who was weeping openly, and felt so ashamed for my prior insensitivity. I gave her a hug and just held her while she cried. It was so intensely personal, and such a sad and beautiful moment, and one I will never forget. I then hugged Mr. Fan, who said he was deeply touched, and also crying. They thanked me, but I assured them it was all Ed's doing. I have much to learn from my gentle, caring husband, who has such compassion for others.

I've included the poem here, called "Think Like A Tree" by Karen I. Shragg:

Soak up the sun
Affirm life's magic
Be graceful in the wind
Stand tall after a storm
Feel refreshed after it rains
Grow strong without notice
Be prepared for each season
Provide shelter to strangers
Hang tough through a cold spell
Emerge renewed at the first signs of spring
Stay deeply rooted while reaching for the sky
Be still long enough to
hear your own leaves rustling.

Thanks to my sweetheart for his stellar example. Maybe one day I will come close to being so compassionate.

Linda