I have at my desk a little tree. It is still very green, as you can see in the picture. I acquired it about a month or two ago. Some of the seeds from a Maple Tree here at the MTC had sprouted early for some reason, and there were several little trees growing in the ground. Being the middle of winter, I figured the trees wouldn’t last long, and they would soon be dead. I had also thought it would be nice to have a plant here with me in the MTC. How cool would it be to have a tree which I had found on my mission, and then nurtured and grown myself? I could plant it somewhere, and then come and see it years later. It could be a land mark for generations. I could see it in my mind, posterity telling little wide-eyed generations of children “that is the tree which great-grandpa Spencer saved on his mission.” I can imagine many other such things, most definitely involving a tire-swing of some kind. But, I won’t bore you with those. Don’t be fooled, while the tree still if very green, it is about as crispy as a twig in a furnace, completely dehydrated and certainly overcooked. I haven’t thrown it out, yet. I do have faith that it may yet revive. But it made me think a little about how much life is sometimes like growing a tree.
