This morning I remember something I wrote in March 2012 about a miniature weeping cherry that blooms on the sidewalk. It’s so small it’s almost comical. Back then, I wrote this:
On the walk to school, we notice the tiniest weeping cherry. Amid the oldest and the tallest, the brightest and the best, this little tree–-so humble and no bigger than a chair–-makes her contribution. In the shadow of the tall oaks on either side of her, she seems so very small. Stand tall, Little Tree! The whole world might not see you, and you don’t stand nearly as tall as the rest, but for this one walk to school, this one street, and this one patch of grass, you bring joy. I want to be the kind of woman who brings pleasure and joy, even if I’m not the best or the most important. Maybe my assignment from God is to bloom small for just one street.
I wrote this, of course, before publishing novels or speaking to crowds. I wrote this with a settled feeling in my heart that my neighborhood was my place to shine. I wrote this with a content heart.
I remember that little tree on that one little street to announce to my heart that God ordains the scope of our ministry. If it’s small and never stands out, if it never gets any mentions on social media, if it never gets the attention of the world, it stands as a beautiful blessing to the few.