After having fallen to depression yesterday, I was feeling pretty down. I had done my dances,
listened to a bit of music, but i still felt numb inside.
Then it started to snow.
it wasn't just any snow.this snow cancled school. this snow was keeping all the teachers at home.
this snow was playfully being thrown by jews at other jews. this snow looked beautiful, elagant and
precious.
So on one hand, it was pretty.
I thought to myself, I should try and appreciate what H' is giving me here.A person should try and
see yad H' in everyhing in the world, no?
so i thought i would stop for a moment and observe how it sat on the tree.
draping nearly every branch, the powder looked prestine, shimmering against the brown wood that held
it in place.
It was amazing to me. How could so many inches of snow pile onto a single branch? how could it
stand so tall with such a weak, narrow base. it looked like a miricle.
but then i noticed the tree, how it was weighed down by this snow.Although each flake was at best a
bit of powder, it piled high and was pulling down the branches with slow and consistant force. with
all of its leaves fallen, it gloomily stared back at me. Even the thick and "shtark" branches were
being pulled down. It looked bare and dead on the outside.
in comparison to the elagance of the snow, it was dreary, mearly a base for all the elagant white.
but then i noticed, that some branches didn't have snow on them. some of the branches were able to
avoid being hampered down by all the snow.
i noticed, it was the ones that were growing straight up - they were not held down by the snow. The
straighter they grew, the less snow they held. The smoother and thinner they were, the less snow
clung to them. They had managed to not be held back.
i could see small buds on them - the place where the leaves would come out.
How beautiful gualus looks. its culture is beautiful and shimmering,piling high atop all the trees
of NY. holding down so many of the branches of our people, miraceosly clinging to the branches
growing outward, hiding the tree's essence.
who, amidst the snow and the shimmer would think that the seemingly dead branch was actually
brimming with life below. who knew the truth that really, this tree was alive, capable of growing
lush leaves and beautiful flowers, of housing nests and providing shade? who knew of its actual
potential, its actual identity.
As pretty as the snow was,I knew it paled in comparison with the essence of its support system.
And who was it that could avoid the snow? those climbing upward. those climbing directly upward, who
were thin, smooth - lacking flaws, lacking blemishes, reaching for the sun, reaching for its energy
Source- fighting gravity, wind and gloom just to gain an inch of sunlight. It was from those branches that I was reminded of the trees real nature, of its burried essence.
One day, may it be soon, the Sun will come out, and all the heavy, thick snow will trickle away. The
tree will reawaken and even its branches growing sideways will know their identity and purpose -
and they too will climb, bud and recognize their Source.
