Page 11 of To the Moon and Back
Amy’s eyes grew noticeably soft, her attention still on the elm. Her voice grew quiet. “But God let it survive.”
Disappointment came over Ashley again. She lifted her eyes to the blue overhead. We should’ve gotten that sapling for her. Please, Father, help us get one. No one deserves one more than Amy. They had already researched how the little tree would look when it was grown and Amy had even found a place to plant it. Ashley let the thought go.
There were two other groups of people nearer to the tree. When they were gone, Amy walked to the trunk. At one point she stopped and looked straight up through the branches. “I can’t believe it’s so tall.”
The others didn’t say anything. This was Amy’s time and Ashley wasn’t going to miss the moment. She pulled her phone from her jacket and as soon as Amy put her hand on the trunk, Ashley captured it.
For a long while, Amy closed her eyes. When she opened them she turned to Ashley and then Kari and her cousins. “I asked God to let my mama and daddy see me here. So they’d know the truth about me.”
They all watched her, like they were waiting for more explanation. Amy looked at the tree and then back at the rest. “You know. That I’m a survivor. Just like the elm.”
Cole joined Amy at the tree, and put his hand on the bark. “God really can get us through anything.” He turned to Ashley. “I think that’s why He let it survive.”
“I think so, too.” Ashley walked to the trunk and touched it. Pressed her hand against the rough bark. Suddenly she knew what she was going to do. She was going to paint the tree. She could see it in her heart already. A bright blue sky, two or three puffy white clouds. And there in the middle, in all its glorious splendor, the Survivor Tree. At the base, a blond girl. Amy. Sitting against the trunk, her hands raised toward heaven.
Yes, she would paint it for her niece. Ashley smiled. She would start as soon as they got home.
Kari and Jessie joined them, too. “Amy . . .” Kari took a step closer, her words gentle. “Your mom always loved trees.”
“She did?” Amy leaned against the trunk.
Ashley loved the privacy of the moment. There were no other tourists on the patio near them. They could take their time. She slipped her arm around Cole and listened as Kari explained.
“Yes. They were some of her favorite things.” Kari linked arms with Jessie, her attention on Amy. “She once told me she felt closest to God when she looked at a tree. She liked to say we could learn a lot from them.”
Tears filled Ashley’s eyes. Dear Erin. The revelation was sweet and poignant. Something Ashley had never known about her youngest sister. She looked at Kari. “I love this. How long ago did she tell you?”
“We were at church camp one summer. Taking a walk.” Kari gazed into the distance, clearly remembering. “Ash, you and Brooke were back at camp for some reason.”
“Probably cleaning our cabin.” Ashley uttered a light laugh. “I was always in trouble. Too much talking. Not paying attention.”
Kari grinned. “Probably.” She turned to Amy again. “Anyway, your mom said that trees raised their arms to praise God, no matter the season. Even in the dead of winter, when no sign of life existed. When its leaves might never come again, the tree’s branches were still lifted high toward heaven.”
“Really?” Amy’s eyes brightened. “I love that. I never knew.”
All of them seemed caught up in the story. Ashley looked to the beautiful elm, grasping the imagery as deeply as Erin once had.
“She said something else.” Kari’s voice was soft, gentle in the breeze around them. She had a way of bringing a memory to life. This was one of those times.
“The reason a tree can survive the storms of any season is because its branches bend in the wind. Otherwise it would blow over and die.” Kari gave Amy a slight smile. “Your mother said she wanted to be that way, too. Whenever God’s Spirit might talk to her or lead her in a certain direction, whatever He whispered for her to do or not to do . . . she wanted to be sensitive.”
“That’s beautiful.” Amy kept her eyes on Kari.
“She said the Holy Spirit was like the wind.” Kari patted Jessie’s arm and separated herself so she could go to Amy. In the most tender way, Kari took hold of both Amy’s hands. “I want you to know something.” She looked into the girl’s eyes. “Your mom was like the trees she loved so much. She moved easily to the sound of God’s voice in her heart.”
A few tears slid down Ashley’s cheeks as she listened. She wiped them and put her free hand on Amy’s shoulder. “It’s true. Your mom’s faith was everything to her.”
“Wow.” Cole took a deep breath. “That’s powerful. The tree in the wind analogy.”
Amy hugged Kari and then Ashley. “Thank you.” She kissed each of her aunts’ cheeks. Kari put her hand alongside Amy’s face. “I’ll remember that about your mom as long as I live. Every time I look at a tree.”
Ashley’s heart ached. The story was indeed one of the most precious she had heard about Erin. She had been at the camp that summer, too. And somehow she had missed that moment. The way she had missed so much about Erin while she was alive. The two of them had often been at odds. Erin, close to their mother. Ashley, more rebellious, independent.
She blinked back another few tears. At least she had stories like this. And she had Amy. One day in heaven she would have forever to get to know her little sister in ways she never did here on earth.
Several tourists were headed their way. God had given them private space here at the Survivor Tree. Now it was time to move on. Ashley took another few photos, including one of Amy and Kari. A reminder of the story that had come to life today.
“Can we see the fence next?” Amy was at Ashley’s side again. “Do you know about the fence?”
