The Last Word is Never the Last

Death overcomes us in the winter.

The buds shiver inside the enfolded arms of its mother. The grass turns a ghastly brown blossom stubborn decaying leaves yet clean to the branches of trees. Long ago all hope was lost.

It is hard to see life beyond the pallid grey of winter. This is why so many of our friends and neighbors move south during the short days. Unable to bear the harshness of the cold months they seek light and warmth and growth another climes.

To wait for the renewal of growth takes patience. It is the same lesson that parents of teenagers learn as they wait for maturation to take hold of the child. Waiting is no easy task.

There is a beautiful story told of Honi HaMaagel in the Talmud.  Honi saw a man planting a carob tree. Honi then asked the man, “How long will it be before this tree bears fruit?” The man replied, “Seventy years.” Honi was incredulous. “Why are you planting it then? You certainly do not expect to live another 70 years!” The man replied, “Just as my forefathers planted for me so I plant for the next generation.”

Honi  pondered this thought and she sat down behind the rock to eat. Drowsiness overcame him and soon he fell asleep. Upon awakening, Honi saw a man picking fruit from the carob tree. He asked him, “Are you the man who planted this tree?” The stranger responded, “No I am his grandson.”

The story is magnificent and it’s profound simplicity. It speaks of the ability to wait patiently for the future, and plant for it. Most of us, like Honi would rather concern ourselves with the present. And the present consumes us. We become depressed by the long rainy days and are saddened by the winter and loss of life. But life does return and with it comes with a renewed joy. Pain subsides and new goals and plans are charted.

In the Jewish tradition it is customary to plant a tree when a child is born. Not simply out of joy do we pack plant the sapling but for a real practical purpose. The branches from the tree will one day be pruned to form the cover of the huppah, the bridal canopy, of that child.

Yes, Judaism some speaks about the present but it also speaks to the future. Beyond death there is life. After upheaval comes stability. We are obligated to anticipate it and plan for it.  Just the doldrums of winter, life springs outward. Every day that we live and function is another day in the ever-turning wheel of our lives. Just as the cycle of years rotates, so does our life rotate. It turns around and around and sooner than we think, we no longer stand where we once stood. Our task is to anticipate change and to allow ourselves to grow with life, not against it.