Grow as best you can

Before I left for Utah, the cherry blossom trees were finally blooming.  It always seems like they're late, but I think that's just in comparison to the seasons in Washington, D.C. where I grew up.

Fourteen years ago, the city had a huge tree-planting program in several of the neighborhoods.  We received a notice in the mail telling us that our block was included in this effort, and listing the ten or so varieties of trees which were being planted.  Steps in the prep process, schedule, phone number for questions.  You could choose to opt out--every address would get one tree, if you lived on a corner you would get one tree on each face of your property.  (This assumed that there was not already a tree or other impediment on your property in the spot--after they marked where the pipes ran--where they would dig you a hole and come a few days later and plop a tree in.)

I called and asked if we could choose what type of tree we would get.  The answer was no, but the nice lady offered to look up the record and find out what our block was going to have.  Cherry blossoms!  That would be just fine, thank you.

Now, I grew up in Washington, D.C., as I mentioned, where the cherry blossoms were a very big deal.  We would detour off of River Road and come into church from the back side, through the neighborhood of Kenwood, where the trees met overhead, and you drove through a pink tunnel during cherry blossom season.  My piano teacher lived there, too, so we had weekday excuses to drink in the beauty every spring.  I loved it.

So, yes, this would be great!

The trees were created from grafted root stock, varieties chosen so that they would grow quickly but not grow into the power lines; instead, they would stop short of that and spread.  This would give some determination of size, for safety, and a sturdy start so that the new trees would thrive.  They grew up very quickly, and they are beautiful along the street, even when they are not in bloom. (Here they are not quite totally open, I missed the peak by being out of town.)

None of them died.  Around the city, a check was done two years later, and very few of the trees, of whatever type, from this planting project died.  That was great. A few, however, here and there, didn't die, but they didn't manage to actually grow, either.

I originally conceived this photo post as an object lesson on how we can only become as much as we let ourselves become; then I went to the temple and came home joyful.  I looked at the 'unsuccessful' trees and saw something completely different.  Instead of condemnation, I saw valiant survival.

The other side of the street didn't have as many new trees for various reasons, and some of those they got didn't do as well.  This little tree didn't grow, but it is blooming its little heart out.  All of the trees have a discernible line where the graft between root stock and branch stock is.  This one, if you enlarge it, has almost a bulb; it's a big, lumpy bulge.  They just didn't meld right, and the root stock didn't expand and thicken up like the others, as it tried to feed the branches.  But those cherry blossom branches have spread out as much as they could manage, and refused to give up.

If this little tree were one of us, it would be rewarded someday with every imperfection healed, and it would take its place in the beautiful line of mature trees above.  Its shortcomings were due to circumstance, not disobedience, and all will be taken into account.  What a mercy that we will be accounted worthy by our hearts, and not our injuries and limitations.