Fiction

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The Tale of
Three Trees

Upon a green Judean hill
A forest stood ~ majestic!
Open to the wind and rain,
By God, alone, protected.

“What will you be, my little tree?”
The mother tree inquired.
“A cradle for a wee baby..”
And he smiled a quaint tree smile.

“And you, my child, what is your dream?”
The mother tree continued.
“A gallant ship, with white sails lit
And a King upon my venue!”

“My Quiet Leaves, what hope is yours?”
The mother asked her last one.
“To stand all day and point the way
That men may find our God, Mom.”

And so, upon the hill they stood,
While sun and storms assailed them.
Strong and tall they grew in size ~
One day men came to fell them.

With a rustling sigh, the first tree fell,
Its limbs were stripped and numbered.
A manger in a stable~barn
They made with its good lumber.

And God, Who loves the little trees,
Whispered, “Now, be cheerful,
For patience is rewarded well".
Still, the little tree was tearful.

“My dream is lost, my hope is past!”
The little tree lamented.
But one starry night in Bethlehem
A Baby was presented,

And Oh! The purest loving joy
Engulfed the small tree~manger,
He knew Who he cradled in his arms ~
(Though to the world a stranger.)

Men came again and took a tree,
They drug it to a seashore.
A crude, plain fishing boat they made ~
He knew ‘twould never be more.

“I’ve lived in vain! My fondest hope
Is lost now and forever!”
The little tree in sorrow sailed
Its dream so cruelly severed.

But God, Who loves the little trees
And knows their fondest wishes,
Said, “Oh, have faith! Your hold won’t be
Forever filled with fishes!”

One day a Special Man came by ~
A crowd of people followed.
They pressed Him ever close to hear
His words, precious and hallowed.

He stepped into the tiny boat
And taught the people saying:
“Seek not the riches of this world ~
Where is your treasure laying?”

The second tree knew, that on his deck
The Son of God stood teaching!
No greater royalty he’d hold ~
No greater truths men reaching!

And out upon the hillside green,
When Spring again was bursting,
The third tree stood majestically
Saying to all men thirsting,

“I point to God, Who cares for all ~
Who’s sending you a Savior!
And this, my faithful servitude ~
I’ll point to God forever!”

Then came the rough and scornful men
With axes swinging wildly,
Into the third tree’s heavy bark
They sunk the blades ~ not mildly!

“Oh, this can never, never be!”
He cried in silent sorrow.
“Father, how shall I point to You
For those who come tomorrow?”

With angry hands the tools employed
And tore away his branches;
Hauled into Jerusalem he lay
Naked....silent....anxious...

And God, Who loved this little tree
Looked down in sorrow, knowing,
Whispered, “Sweet peace” even then
When both their tears were showing.

Into a cruel, ugly, cross
The little tree was fashioned;
And nails were driven through the hands
Of Someone hung with passion.

A jeering mob, a Savior’s blood;
A mother’s heart was broken ~
The earthquake and the thunderings...
A final word was spoken.

Laid vainly in a borrowed tomb.
God’s Son had made the purchase;
Freely laying down His life ~
Fulfilling Heaven’s purpose.

A brutal and a blood~stained cross
That lifted, high, the Savior
Became a precious emblem that
Each one of us holds dearer.

No other tree is so revered ~
No other so endearing ~
No other tree has shown the way
To millions, now God~fearing.

...Upon a green Judean hill,
A forest stands now praising
A God Whose loving Sacrifice
Shows only Grace Amazing!

Joan Clifton Costner
copyright
http://underhiswings0.tripod.com

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