"Man is a wolf."

"Man is a tree."

You've heard the first comment, man is a wolf, but man is a tree? Absolutely. Every year at Christmas there is a routine: you buy the tree, you set up the tree, you decorate the tree, and you admire the tree. Have you ever sat and pondered over the tree?

The evergreen tree, a magical symbol, the tree that prevails in its green through harsh winters. Like man the tree grows. At first, it is only a fragile sapling, struggling up and up to reach the small amount of light let in by the senior trees. Then the tree not only grows up, but out. Isn't it a wonderful feeling for the child to wake up and to stretch out his or her arms? Just imagine the wee tree stretching out its young and limber branches. It delights when the chickadee settles on one of its branches. For even as the branch wobbles, it stands proud. And it shivers with joy as the first snow dusts it, as does the young child when allowed to tumble in the first snowfall.

As one moves from youth to young adult, so does the tree. One gets stronger and more independent, arms and legs moving with an ease that one didn't have as a young child. The tree too gets stronger. The branch that once wobbled at the chickadee can now hold even the plumpest one without a quiver.

The tree now has no need to fight for light, yet it can't stop. For the tree, like a young child, still needs to mature. They both need to grow stronger, they both need to be their own best; they both need to reach the light. ^