Right Before My Eyes

Outside my window there is a tree that stands alone. In the distance there are towering pines but no tree is near to this one. It stands wild and untended with thin branches intertwined in a jumbled mesh of aged and fragile limbs. It is a favorite gathering place for sparrows. Great groups swarm to its many cross-stitched branches. Their chattering excitement like a noisy children’s playground with gossiping voices that travel through the panes of my front window. They love this tree. They tell the world through song. Without complaint the tree stands patient. For thirty-seven seasons I have given it little notice showing even less care for its welfare. This January has been mild. Yesterday we had a brief shower. The bare branches of the old tree were dripping with rain. Its boughs drooped with the weight of heavy drops. Later, the warm sun came from the south and shone through each droplet hanging, reflecting sunlight to my eyes. Each raindrop became a tiny light upon the tree covering it with thousands of faux Christmas lights. They shone more brilliant than the nighttime stars in heaven. And then a miracle happened. A small breeze arose, as if on cue. Not enough to shake the droplets loose, but just enough to make them shimmer. The sunlight was then reflected with a swaying motion, light to shadow, to and fro. It was breathtaking! Thousands of naturally twinkling lights on an ordinary, turned extraordinary, tree. A thought arose within my mind: “All things in life must have their moment” I felt humbled and amazed to share this moment with this tree, Who was I to share a gift so rare. Eyes tearing up, I stood staring in awe at the most beautiful tree in the world, right outside my window, where it had always been.