Stay with me, sweet Sycamore

     Every time I look at you, I remember Reta's twinkle in her eye every time "she" would behold you. Quietly saying" ah! The tree to heaven!".  I'm sure she would weep gently of hearing of your demise, as I was would also. 

     That tree is over 110 years old and stands majestic against the other trees surrounding it. Seeing, itself, 100 years of life and activity from the past to the present. You watched her plant you and water you. You watched the snow storms that hung on your branches. You watched the countless numbers of birds that built their nests and squirrels that played tag up and down your trunk. You watched my children and grandchildren, take their family pictures after a fierce game of Easter egg hunting. You watched Reta and Larry sit outside on cool Summer nights, side by side, on the push swing. You watched me grilling out and smiling at the children who played in the sprinkler. To Infinity and beyond are the things you saw and relished every moment. I believe you have a heart too, sweet Sycamore. A seasoning in your bark that makes your color so beautiful. 

     I pray you have 100 more years to stay alive and bring the earth, as well as us, more joy, more beauty.  Just like God does for us. His nature is the best, in all of its forms.