The 400-year-old Angel Oak in Angel Oak Park, on Johns Island, South Carolina, one of the largest oak trees on the planet —thevintagenews.com
A Prayer for the Tenth Day of Lent
. . . the wisdom that is from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, and easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. —James 3:17
Father-Mother, make me wise as with the wisdom
of an oak tree, which knows from an acorn when
and how to grow, to bud, to send forth fruit, to
rest. Untaught, it soaks its food out of the earth,
absorbs the minerals it needs, no more, and
senses where the spring originates. It shoots out
sturdy roots and capillaries thence and rises from
the ground in measured increments according to
the season. Sap dispenses nourishment to every
inch of bark and foliage; all is necessary, nothing
wasted. Yet, though economical, its yield is lush. It
thrives! The wind blows through its million leaves
whose shimmering is like applause after a fine
production at the opera. And why not? Just in
the course of living, it gives generously beauty,
shade, and oxygen. Does it know, do you
suppose, how dear it is? They say that trees speak
to each other. Oh, that we could know its
language. Just imagine all the wisdom it
possesses.
Father-Mother, I could do much worse than to be
sturdy, economical, and generous as is the oak.
May I so grow, and thrive, and bless. Amen.
Sister Alma Rose Has the Last Word 