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- Story Listed as: True Life For Teens
- Theme: Inspirational
- Subject: Faith / Hope
- Published: 05/05/2011
Faith, The Tall Pine
Born 1961, M, from Independence, Virginia, United States![Faith, The Tall Pine](/storage/story/1304699948Tall Pine-image(151x285-crop).jpg)
Faith, The tall pine in my yard.
We are very fortunate to have found the home we live in. When we moved to the mountains 14 years ago the housing market was high and supply was greatly limited. Just by chance and elderly lady was moving into a retirement community as we were searching for a new home. Having young children at the time we wanted a large yard in a safe community. We looked everywhere but couldn’t find “that perfect house”.
Our agent showed us the elderly ladies house one day. It was a museum of 1970’s décor, complete with colors of avocado, orange, red and black. Everything was broken in the house. Plumbing leaked leaving the air inside reminiscent of standing next to a waterfall. Paint peeled and cracked making tiny brittle noises as you walked the halls. The carpet on the floor was so old that it was rotting. The deck had rotting boards that threatened to break underfoot. “I just can’t keep it up anymore” the lady said with a heart grabbing sadness in her voice. We nodded with respect. She was kind and truly loved the home but age had gotten the best of her as it will all of us someday. “There’s been a lot of love in this house over the years though” she said as if pleading for the home to be loved and restored again. We looked away from her, each thinking that the place should be burned rather than restored.
As we were leaving my wife stood in the yard and paused. “Dang it” I thought. “Honey let’s go. Please.” “Why are you acting like that? I was just looking around.” She rubbed her stomach as she gazed and her shoulders relaxed. “Look at all the flowers in the yard Dear.” “Dang it. Honey please don’t make me have to fix another money pit.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s go look at some more houses.” Yeah, right. I drove quickly as we left hoping to put as much distance between my dear wife and that tenement as possible. She was quiet and gazed back with longing in her eyes. “Sigh.”
Two weeks passed and we looked at many more homes. Most were above our budget or had floor plans that resembled a maze. The hotel we stayed in was growing smaller by the day. We had the first argument that we had snarled at each other in many years. Of course we made up but that’s when the real trouble started. We always give each other a long, loving hug after a fight. She wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder. Unknown to her, she could win any argument just by doing that. “Dear, let’s take another look at that house with all the trees and the big flower filled yard.” “Sigh.” I think you all know how that ended up.
Within the first six months we spent over $30,000.00 on drywall, electrical wiring stuff, plumbing supplies and other construction material. They knew us by first names at the hardware store. I made my wife promise to help if we bought the shack and she agreed. While I ran wire, she painted and cleaned. While I hung drywall she pulled up old rotting carpet. This left me with little excuse to run from the poor excuse for a structure and never look back. She did her part with a smile on her face, “sigh.”
One day many years later I looked around as I stood in the dining room. The fireplace that had resembled something from the civil war, complete with cooking pot, was now a solid cherry masterpiece complete with an Italian tile lining. The kitchen had hickory cabinets with stained glass doors. The granite countertops shone in the gentle mountain light. The solid oak floors were both classic and in good taste where once, a stench filled carpet had covered the floors. My youngest child played with our black lab in the yard. The old horse barn had magically turned into a home, a good home. I turned and looked out the window and saw flowers everywhere I looked amongst the brilliant green, high mountain grass. My wife gave me one of those secret woman, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, I told you so looks.” She had in fact, been right about the place. The elderly lady was right also. I’ve never lived in a home that felt so loving from the foundation to the roof as our home is now. It is a place of retreat for the soul.
So we sat on our newly rebuilt deck a few years ago as the sun set beyond a far mountain ridge. Lightning bugs twinkled and Luna moths fluttered about. We looked at all of the tall oaks, maples and ash in our forested yard with joy. Our eyes scanned the yard and then met at one point, on one thing. One issue that still troubled our minds was the tall, ninety foot pine in front of the house. It was beautiful with its straight, soaring trunk. It stood higher than all the others trees like a beacon to all things alive. “I am what life can be, tall, strong, and beautiful” I could have sworn I heard it say.
The winds blow strong in the high mountains at times. What may be a gentle breeze in a lowland valley can snap branches and topple trees here, in the place nearer the sky. Often tall pines are the first to succumb to wet ground and blistering spring winds. The wind blows most often from the pine to our house. I look to the pine often and marvel at its beauty, but then my thoughts always drift to how our restored home would look if crushed by the fallen tree. I should cut it down before that day comes. I cannot face destroying a thing of beauty and majesty. My heart is pulled in two directions by a simple stack of timber on the hoof. The thing is that most often the winds blow at night. When they do the tree leans directly at my bedroom. The yard just wouldn’t be the same without the pine. There would be no green in the sky during the dark, barren winter. The oaks, maples and ash’s go to their seasonal rest but the tall pine stays green, filling my heart with a promise of warm sunny days. Someday I think, I’ll have to lay a saw into its flesh, standing or fallen on my home.
The terrible torrents of April came with anger as they do most years. I watched as trees toppled and listened as massive oak and polar branches snapped like tiny, weak straw underfoot. The pine leaned heavily and shouted a wind driven yell of defiance through its branches. I prayed to God. “I have shown faith Lord, by praying rather than cutting your tree. Please reward my faith by making it stand.” A branch flew through the air striking our home with a very loud crash. I peeked through the window but the air was full of rain, hail and wind driven things of the earth. I prayed again the pine would stand tall and straight. In answer I heard its defiance to the winds again. My faith was weak as we avoided the room where it would likely fall.
The next day I peered outside to a world of battered life. Not a single bough from the tall beacon lay on the ground yet many from other, stronger trees did. I looked to the sky feeling quite small in a world that is much more powerful than me. “Thank you God. Forgive me for my fears. I have seen your power and your grace today. Forgive me for my lack of faith.” I felt a calm smile that filled the air. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once. A sunbeam shone through broken cloud and tree and landed on my bedroom. I smiled back at nowhere and everywhere. God does have a sense of humor. I have a little more faith.
The motor of my chainsaw remains cold. The tall pine stands. Definitely by Gods hand and maybe by a small amount of my faith. It’s boughs are particularly bright green today. I hope they, and my faith remain.
Tom Williams 6May2011
Faith, The Tall Pine(Tom Williams)
Faith, The tall pine in my yard.
We are very fortunate to have found the home we live in. When we moved to the mountains 14 years ago the housing market was high and supply was greatly limited. Just by chance and elderly lady was moving into a retirement community as we were searching for a new home. Having young children at the time we wanted a large yard in a safe community. We looked everywhere but couldn’t find “that perfect house”.
Our agent showed us the elderly ladies house one day. It was a museum of 1970’s décor, complete with colors of avocado, orange, red and black. Everything was broken in the house. Plumbing leaked leaving the air inside reminiscent of standing next to a waterfall. Paint peeled and cracked making tiny brittle noises as you walked the halls. The carpet on the floor was so old that it was rotting. The deck had rotting boards that threatened to break underfoot. “I just can’t keep it up anymore” the lady said with a heart grabbing sadness in her voice. We nodded with respect. She was kind and truly loved the home but age had gotten the best of her as it will all of us someday. “There’s been a lot of love in this house over the years though” she said as if pleading for the home to be loved and restored again. We looked away from her, each thinking that the place should be burned rather than restored.
As we were leaving my wife stood in the yard and paused. “Dang it” I thought. “Honey let’s go. Please.” “Why are you acting like that? I was just looking around.” She rubbed her stomach as she gazed and her shoulders relaxed. “Look at all the flowers in the yard Dear.” “Dang it. Honey please don’t make me have to fix another money pit.” “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s go look at some more houses.” Yeah, right. I drove quickly as we left hoping to put as much distance between my dear wife and that tenement as possible. She was quiet and gazed back with longing in her eyes. “Sigh.”
Two weeks passed and we looked at many more homes. Most were above our budget or had floor plans that resembled a maze. The hotel we stayed in was growing smaller by the day. We had the first argument that we had snarled at each other in many years. Of course we made up but that’s when the real trouble started. We always give each other a long, loving hug after a fight. She wrapped her arms around me and rested her head on my shoulder. Unknown to her, she could win any argument just by doing that. “Dear, let’s take another look at that house with all the trees and the big flower filled yard.” “Sigh.” I think you all know how that ended up.
Within the first six months we spent over $30,000.00 on drywall, electrical wiring stuff, plumbing supplies and other construction material. They knew us by first names at the hardware store. I made my wife promise to help if we bought the shack and she agreed. While I ran wire, she painted and cleaned. While I hung drywall she pulled up old rotting carpet. This left me with little excuse to run from the poor excuse for a structure and never look back. She did her part with a smile on her face, “sigh.”
One day many years later I looked around as I stood in the dining room. The fireplace that had resembled something from the civil war, complete with cooking pot, was now a solid cherry masterpiece complete with an Italian tile lining. The kitchen had hickory cabinets with stained glass doors. The granite countertops shone in the gentle mountain light. The solid oak floors were both classic and in good taste where once, a stench filled carpet had covered the floors. My youngest child played with our black lab in the yard. The old horse barn had magically turned into a home, a good home. I turned and looked out the window and saw flowers everywhere I looked amongst the brilliant green, high mountain grass. My wife gave me one of those secret woman, “Nah, nah, nah, nah, nah, I told you so looks.” She had in fact, been right about the place. The elderly lady was right also. I’ve never lived in a home that felt so loving from the foundation to the roof as our home is now. It is a place of retreat for the soul.
So we sat on our newly rebuilt deck a few years ago as the sun set beyond a far mountain ridge. Lightning bugs twinkled and Luna moths fluttered about. We looked at all of the tall oaks, maples and ash in our forested yard with joy. Our eyes scanned the yard and then met at one point, on one thing. One issue that still troubled our minds was the tall, ninety foot pine in front of the house. It was beautiful with its straight, soaring trunk. It stood higher than all the others trees like a beacon to all things alive. “I am what life can be, tall, strong, and beautiful” I could have sworn I heard it say.
The winds blow strong in the high mountains at times. What may be a gentle breeze in a lowland valley can snap branches and topple trees here, in the place nearer the sky. Often tall pines are the first to succumb to wet ground and blistering spring winds. The wind blows most often from the pine to our house. I look to the pine often and marvel at its beauty, but then my thoughts always drift to how our restored home would look if crushed by the fallen tree. I should cut it down before that day comes. I cannot face destroying a thing of beauty and majesty. My heart is pulled in two directions by a simple stack of timber on the hoof. The thing is that most often the winds blow at night. When they do the tree leans directly at my bedroom. The yard just wouldn’t be the same without the pine. There would be no green in the sky during the dark, barren winter. The oaks, maples and ash’s go to their seasonal rest but the tall pine stays green, filling my heart with a promise of warm sunny days. Someday I think, I’ll have to lay a saw into its flesh, standing or fallen on my home.
The terrible torrents of April came with anger as they do most years. I watched as trees toppled and listened as massive oak and polar branches snapped like tiny, weak straw underfoot. The pine leaned heavily and shouted a wind driven yell of defiance through its branches. I prayed to God. “I have shown faith Lord, by praying rather than cutting your tree. Please reward my faith by making it stand.” A branch flew through the air striking our home with a very loud crash. I peeked through the window but the air was full of rain, hail and wind driven things of the earth. I prayed again the pine would stand tall and straight. In answer I heard its defiance to the winds again. My faith was weak as we avoided the room where it would likely fall.
The next day I peered outside to a world of battered life. Not a single bough from the tall beacon lay on the ground yet many from other, stronger trees did. I looked to the sky feeling quite small in a world that is much more powerful than me. “Thank you God. Forgive me for my fears. I have seen your power and your grace today. Forgive me for my lack of faith.” I felt a calm smile that filled the air. It came from nowhere and everywhere at once. A sunbeam shone through broken cloud and tree and landed on my bedroom. I smiled back at nowhere and everywhere. God does have a sense of humor. I have a little more faith.
The motor of my chainsaw remains cold. The tall pine stands. Definitely by Gods hand and maybe by a small amount of my faith. It’s boughs are particularly bright green today. I hope they, and my faith remain.
Tom Williams 6May2011
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