Trees.

 Trees

When I was 5, my dad and I planted a willow tree in the front yard of our new home. I don't remember that day, but I've seen the picture that proves it happened. 

She (the willow) stands unwavering outside of our home 12 years later. Like a great protector, she is tall, mighty, and stands alone. The willow is the only one of her kind anywhere around our house. She has withstood storms, snow, wind, and all the bugs that try to eat her from the inside out. 

I stand much like the willow, only sometimes I fall. Not quite fall really, but stumble or make mistakes. Sometimes I give in to those bugs trying to eat me from the inside out. Or the storms that swirl around me become just a little too much to handle. But that's okay. I'll keep looking out my window at my big beautiful tree and writing because that's what I'm good at.

Today, my dad and I planted 8 more trees.

We went outside and used a shovel to scrap away the weeds and what was left of our summer garden. I watched as my dad dug out 8 little holes and then I handed him the trees, one by one. As he carefully covered them up with a blanket of dirt, I watered them until tiny puddles formed. 4 spruce and 4 northern beech trees will hopefully survive the cold Ohio winter and get replanted in a permanent place in the spring.

The more I think about it, the more I realize we are a lot like trees.

-ava