An Easter Parable

Everygreen lay, discarded on the back step. Her branches crumpled beneath her, A section of gold chain still clung on one arm. She tried to comprehend what she had done wrong.

Just days ago, she stood in a position of prominence in the house, tiny, white lights highlighting the tips of her branches twinkled like stars; garlands adorned her body, assorted coloured balls and silver bells decorated her fingers, and a star crowned her head.

Children and adults stopped to admire as though she were royalty or a goddess; packages gathered at her foot as if to honour her presence. Days of admiration culminated one evening with the family gathered to sing songs. Then, a morning of excitement and the gifts disappeared.

 The veneration was over, and soon she lay naked on the back step.

She had been happy growing up in the forest beside her brothers and sisters. Her parents and relatives stood meters tall, having lived there for decades, their arms outstretched as if in reverent adoration to the golden sun and indigo sky.

But one eventful winter day, with her arms and fingers glistening with hoarfrost icing, it happened. A family came by laughing and jostling each other on the snowy path when a shout went out, “Daddy, this one!”

The group stopped, measured her height, and touched her arms, their eyes tracing every detail of her body as if to determine whether she qualified for a beauty contest. Then a sharp blow to her leg, and she toppled, dragged away from all her friends, strapped to the roof of a car on her way to a new location. Placed in a prominent corner, watered, and festooned with decorations, they sang songs.

“O Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree

How lovely are your branches!

What had she done to deserve such praise?

But how quickly she had been cast out, to lie dehydrating in the winter sun.

Bundled with others of her kind and carried off to a dump, she underwent a moment of total humiliation. Ground into the tiniest pieces and blown into a heap to lie rotting – three days, three months, three years – she had lost track of time, but as she gradually lost shape and colour, she transformed into a new substance.

Bundled into a bag, later to be mixed with her sister earth and placed into a pot, she felt the bulb pushed into the space near her. Soon, she sensed the tickle of tiny fibers reaching out, thirsty for the strength she could provide. She inched her way up the stem, her new energy giving it height, girth, and colour – a beautiful green stem.

Once more, she felt the sun’s warmth and the gentle breath of air encourage her to push deeper into a bud, providing strength for the opening of a large white flower.

Evergreen stood tall among a group of her kind in a beautiful building. Their trumpet-shaped flowers formed a white tapestry amid a field of green, once again being honoured in some way.

A choir sang, “Christ the Lord is risen today…” while Evergreen and her sisters tilted their heads toward the sun.