In the spring, we had horrible weather one night (actually, we had bad weather every Friday night for about a month or more). We even had a point when tornado sirens were going off, etc.
It was in that storm that the maple tree that we had planted after Molly was born was blown down. It was very traumatic, and there were actually tears from just about everyone in the house. (These kids love the trees in our yard.)
It was knocked over for a couple of days and it still looked good. So, we tried to clamp it together and used big stakes to keep it up. And, luckily, the tree thrived. We used tree fertilizer, and not only did none of the leaves even die, we had a lot of new growth. I prayed that we might laugh twenty years from now, as we looked at a large tree, remembering the Friday night that it was blown down.
Apparently some prayers cannot be answered the way we want them to be.
This afternoon, with rain so hard that it was going sideways, Eric looked out the window and said, “I think we’re going to lose Molly’s tree.” He then went on to tell me that it was leaning very far over.
And, then, less than five minutes later, he confirmed the worst (at least as far as the tree goes) — her tree had been blown down again.
At least this time, there were no tears. We had been reminding the children since the spring that the tree could very well fall again. They were not happy, but they accepted that these things just happen sometimes.
Still…I’ll miss that maple tree. I think everyone will.
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