roots

When I lived in Minneapolis, they were cutting down many elms along the boulevard because of Dutch Elm disease. I started praying for the elm trees I passed. I put my hands on them, waited until my mind was clear, and then prayed that they should stay healthy and strong.

We passed the same two elm trees every day when I walked my daughter to her kindergarten bus stop, and so I put my hands on them every school day and prayed for them briefly. My two-year-old son, who observed this from his stroller every day, accepted this as a normal part of his day and would occasionally walk up to other trees and quietly put both hands on them. (He has since stopped doing that!)

Over time, I grew very attached to these two trees, which were almost a block from my house. I experienced very different emotions when I prayed for each of them. When my hands were on one, I felt both a gorgeous sense of lightness and a grief that sometimes made me cry. The other felt much less effusive. I felt guarded and angry when my hands were on that tree.

More elms were marked and cut down in our neighborhood every week, so I made some calls, asking if I could get "my" trees vaccinated against the disease. I found out it could cost more than $2000 to protect those trees, because we'd also need to vaccinate the elm across the street. I also found out that it would probably be a waste of money because the vaccination couldn't protect them from becoming infected under ground through their root system, especially if other elms had once been growing nearby. I was sure that another elm once grew next to these two trees, but had been cut down within the last few years.

Apparently, when trees grow close together, their roots sometimes entwine, and after many years, they grow together. In these places where the roots are joined, they share sap under ground and become like one tree.

This past summer, while I stayed at home tenaciously avoiding anything exciting (or even entertaining), I could feel my roots growing. I felt them twining silently with my husband's roots and growing together under ground like the elm trees. After being in love with this person for 20 years, I am amazed by how much there is to learn and by the unexpected ways that love changes me.