The Sisters share stories grown on trees
Those are the first and final lines of “Trees,” one of the most admired poems of the 20th century. We Sisters have to agree with poet Joyce Kilmer. Not that poets are fools (though admittedly it’s not the most practical career path), but that Hashem’s trees are a miracle of creation. We sit in their shade on sunny days, take shelter under them in the rain. We climb their branches, enjoy their fruit, use their lumber. Trees clean the very air we breathe.
Trees are central to our physical world, while their beauty nourishes our souls. Which is why artists and poets have paid tribute to trees in pictures and words. And why we decided to dedicate our column to stories that grow on trees.
Or, to slightly change the opening line of “Trees”: We think that we shall never see / a Schmooze lovely as a tree…
The red oak beside my house soared proudly 120 feet into the sky. It took about 80 years to reach that height.
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