The Day I Burned the Charlie Brown Tree

The Day I Burned the Charlie Brown Tree

Welcome to Christianity Oasis. This is The Day I Burned the Charlie Brown Tree from our Sojourn With Luz Leigh Collection. We hope you enjoy this enlightening reading and it helps you on your own be-YOU-tiful Christian walk.

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Sojourn With Luz Leigh

The Day I Burned the Charlie Brown Tree

It was the day I burned the Charlie Brown Tree. Now, to some of you, that won't mean a thing. In fact, it probably means nothing to most people, but to me, it was important. You see, the Charlie Brown Tree (CBT) had been a part of my life for over fifteen years. From the day my sweet teen-age daughter brought it to me, brightened with small silver Christmas bells and tiny bows in the traditional Christmas colors of red and green, to the day over a year ago when it was pronounced "dead," the CBT was always there. The CBT was a reminder of the love my child expressed to me that day so many years ago. She admonished me with these words, "Mom, it just needs a lot of love."

I gave that tree lots of love, watched it grow from a twig to a towering Norfolk pine, more than six feet tall. It was watered, fertilized, protected from the cold and heat, and transported from our home to my office more times than my children like to remember. They were the ones who had to lift it when it became too heavy for me to handle.

Then the day came when I decided the CBT could survive the winter in our barn instead of being cared for at my office. I had been told by someone that freezing temperatures would kill the CBT. My sons agreed to load the CBT on the back of the red farm truck. The CBT now stood over six feet tall and, along with the container and potting soil, weighed more than a man could handle alone. It was to be a short trip from the front of the house around to the back yard to the barn. But, somehow, family luck jumped into place and the container fell over, losing a portion of the potting soil and letting the CBT fall to its side. Only a few small branches were damaged. After many apologies from the two movers, the soil was replaced, the CBT was again sitting upright and all was well with the world, as the saying goes.

My sons quickly, and may I say very carefully, transported the CBT to its new home in the barn. For those who are not familiar with what I refer to as a barn, it is actually an open shed. It has a metal roof and metal walls on the north, west and south sides. Therefore, the CBT can be sort of protected from the cold weather in the winter and the hot, hot sun in the summer, yet can get sunlight and fresh air.

I watered the CBT during the first winter and made sure the temperature was not too cold at night. On the really cold nights I placed a heat lamp nearby to keep the temperature above freezing. This care was continued for several winters. The CBT continued to thrive and grow. It was a constant reminder of the love in our family. No matter where we are the love follows and engulfs us just as my care for the CBT continued.

Then one year I realized the CBT was beginning to drop more and more of its limbs. The needles on the limbs would turn brown and become brittle no matter what I did for it. When warm spring weather came, I even moved the CBT out of its sheltered place in the barn to a shady spot under the pecan tree. There it was protected from the sun's hot rays, but could get some late, late afternoon sunshine. Still, nothing helped. In the summer that year, I had to admit the CBT was dead.

Even with this knowledge, I could not bring myself to do away with the remains of the tree that had been a part of my life for so many years. I felt that I would be betraying my daughter if I let the tree go. I pushed the CBT, now just a trunk with absolutely no limbs left, to an area hidden from view unless one was out near the barn. Passersby on the street or anyone walking in our back yard could not see what remained of the CBT. But, I knew it was there.

Finally, one day early in the morning as I was doing some outdoor chores on the fifth anniversary of the death of my beloved husband, I decided it was time to move on ... time to let go of the CBT. So with loving care, I pulled the dead trunk from the container, shook the soil from the very dead roots, said goodbye to my CBT and placed it on a pile of burning tree limbs. I could not stand to watch as the flames took hold, so I turned my back on the fire and started walking toward the house. As I neared the back door, my heart leapt with joy. A beautiful hibiscus blossom greeted me. I had not noticed it when I passed the shrub earlier, although I am sure it was there. It seemed to reach out to me and say, "There are other things of nature for you to behold and derive joy from." This blossom is on a plant given to me by my older son on Mother's Day a couple of years ago. This plant, too, has received my loving attention as I seek to keep it alive and healthy.

So as the CBT was burning I began to understand what I had always known. Nothing on this earth lasts forever outside of love. I know that someday I will probably have to say goodbye to my hibiscus plant because it will have lived its life out. It will be easier to let it go because of what I learned the day I burned the Charlie Brown Tree.

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