The Little Tree She arrived at night.

The house was black and unoccupied, and the surrounding deep woods only seemed to add to the sense of total darkness. She quickly exited from the car, unlocked the door, and threw on the porch lights. The light was comforting, but it made her feel like she was on display for anything that might be lurking at the woods edge. She emptied only what she absolutely needed from the car and hurried into the house, closing the door behind her. There wasnt much to do at the late hour, so she headed straight to bed. A bedside clock radio softly played the evenings news and the voices made the house seem less empty. Being so completely alone, it was a struggle to drift off to sleep, but eventually fatigue won. She awoke to a beam of sunlight streaming into the room through the skylight. She had survived the night and looked forward to beginning her retreat time. Coming to the woods for a week alone was a bit unnerving, but she knew it was exactly what she needed. She showered and put on some of the comfy clothing that would be her uniform for the week, and then she padded down the stairs to the kitchen. Once there, she made herself a cup of hot coffee and went out onto the front porch. The sturdy rocking chair looked so inviting and she relaxed into the warmth of the sunlight. Glancing out across the expanse of the front yard, soaking in all the colors of autumn, it was only then that she noticed itthe empty gap in the trees. It had been far too dark the night before to see that it was missing. Where was the little tree?
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Years earlier, when she and her husband had given birth to their first child, named Joshua, they had bought a small, one branch, red pine seedling at the annual state fair. Together, they had decided to plant it in his honor at her parents vacation home in the woods of Vermont. Joshua was just three months old, sitting in his portable car seat, as they cleared a small area within a row of young trees at the front edge of the yard. The site was directly across from the front door and was easily visible from the porch. The log house had just been completed the year before and they all hoped to enjoy watching the little tree grow along with Joshua over the years. At that precious moment in time, they couldnt have known how poignant their little ceremony would turn out to be. When Joshua was just two and a half years old, he went for a routine checkup. The parents shared with the doctor that they had observed some difficulties with his walking, running, and stair climbing. The doctor ordered some blood tests to rule out possible causes. Test results indicated an abnormally high level of CPK (creatine phosphokinase) and the family was sent to the Childrens Hospital to receive an official diagnosisDuchenne Muscular Dystrophy. This was a devastating diagnosis, as DMD is a progressive, degenerative, and ultimately terminal disease. Affecting primarily boys, most do not live past their late teens to mid-twenties. The parents took their little boy home and began what would become an eighteen and a half year journey through cyclical, anticipatory grieving and the anguish, adversity, and many adaptations that would deeply affect their lives. As time went by, the family gave birth to two additional healthy children. Together they traveled to the house in Vermont and would always check on the
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progress of the little tree. After planting, it showed signs of growth with small branches sprouting out to the sides of the single stalk. But in time, its growth seemed to slow. It wasnt making much progress while the surrounding trees seemed to be flourishing. Her father would spend hours clearing out the sprouting ground cover and trimming back the branches of nearby trees so that the little tree could possibly get enough light. For Joshua, walking with an awkward gait turned to tip-toeing when ligaments and tendons contracted as a result of his muscle weakness. Joshua began to fall frequently and despite the use of therapeutic steroids, by the age of 10 he was in a wheel chair full time. Once in the wheelchair, the decline phase of the disease began, heralded by a nine-hour spinal fusion surgery to correct the associated scoliosis that could become life threatening. The little tree grew to about three feet tall, but began showing signs of stress as its lower branches lost all their needles. In the year that Joshua celebrated his 21st birthday, just two days before Christmas, Joshuas heart failed. He succumbed to the long-term effects of his disease surrounded by all of his closest loved ones. He, and his family somehow found the strength to let go. A month after his death, family members traveled to the Vermont vacation house. It was a year of extraordinary snow and the little tree was completely buried. She scooped the snow away from its delicate branches. By now, only the very top branches still had green needles. It looked like a pitiful skeleton, but she stood near the opening and took pictures of it anyway.

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Now, she looked out at a big gaping hole. She called her father and he struggled to tell her about the tree. Shortly after Joshua had died, just after their winter visit, the little tree also succumbed and so he had removed it. Never fully realizing its own capacity, the little tree had mirrored the life it was planted to honor. It too had somehow found the strength to simply let go. Tears filled her eyes when suddenly, there was a tremendous rushing wind. The golden leaves of a nearby Quaking Aspen were sucked vertically, high into the sunlit air, dancing their way to the ground like falling confetti. Letting go.

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