Pecan and Ash

Growing up, our neighbors had a pecan tree. It grew and dropped hundreds of nuts every year. It’s a wonder that more pecan trees didn’t sprout up and grow. I know that my mom wanted one to sprout in our yard and give us a hearty pecan harvest every year.

At some point, a little tree sprouted in our yard, right there near the fence next to the pecan neighbor’s house. Finally the pecan tree. My mom declared that the tree would live and we were not to mow over it when cutting the grass. We avoided cutting it down and it continued to grow. It was a great little tree, all of its little pecan tree leaves sprouting and waving in the breeze. It grew so fast. It would be no time before we had our own pecans.

And then we began to notice, one by one, that the leaves that looked so pecanish were not so pecanish anymore. As the tree grew it became more and more obvious that our tree was not a pecan tree at all, but an ash. Nobody told mom. We didn’t want her to uproot it and tear it out. She didn’t want an ash. I didn’t tell her, my brother didn’t tell her and dad didn’t tell her. We figured if it got big enough with out her knowing then it would be safe from removal. She wouldn’t let a beautiful ash be chopped down. It would grow on her. I mean after all it would turn into such a great shade tree, wonderful for climbing and spying.
That brave little ash grew from a little sapling to the size of a good walking stick. Then it grew to the size of a large flag pole. And it grew even taller and thicker in the trunk, so thick it was like a telephone pole. There was no getting rid of it now.

And all the while mom didn’t realize it wasn’t a pecan tree. Instead of seeing it for what it was, she saw what she wanted it to be. Her hope blinded her to what we all knew from early on. But one day she finally realized. That tree was no pecan tree.

When she told us, we were a little sheepish. She could tell we already knew. She wanted to know why we hadn’t told her. Well, because we liked it for what it was and didn’t want to see it destroyed because it wasn’t what she wanted.

The ash isn’t a bad tree, mom even likes it now. The danger was it not that it was bad. The danger was that it was not what she expected. Who knows, maybe we’ll get the pecan tree yet, but when the next sprout appears I think she’ll be a little more observant.

In my life I have not stopped to look at the tree to really find out what it is. I assumed it was one thing and acted according to that belief. But I was wrong. I have procrastinated doing what I want and what love because of my failure to look and see. I picked one path because it seemed fruitful, but that was not right. I should have been looking for the ash tree instead of looking for the pecan.