A Tale of Three Palm Trees

I have lived all of my life in the midwestern United States…until three years ago, when we moved to South Florida.  When we were looking at houses, my one secret desire was to find a house that had palm trees prominently featured in the landscape.  Now, clearly that wasn’t a “need” for a home, and I would have been absolutely content without them, of course…but because I have lived all my life where snow and ice are a regular occurrence, palm trees just epitomize “tropical” to me.  So I secretly wanted palm trees.

As it turned out, the house that we eventually decided to buy happened to have a plethora of palm trees. And I frankly love them all.  I’ve enjoyed learning about all the different kinds of palm trees and figuring out which ones are my favorites.

I did not expect that some of the palm trees would teach me lessons about life.

But they have.

You see, we have these three palm trees that line our driveway.  When we purchased the home, these palms were tall and straight and majestic.

Then, last fall, Hurricane Irma barreled into Florida.  We were extremely fortunate that Irma did not land a direct hit on South Florida as we at one time expected, and as a result, our damage was minimal.

We lost a few trees, a couple of screens, a lot of branches, and had a ton of yard cleanup to do.  Compared to so many others, that was really nothing to be concerned about.

One of the palm trees continued to stand straight after Irma.  However, two out of those three palm trees did not come through Irma unscathed.

In fact, one of the palm trees was so misshapen after Irma that I thought for sure we’d have to remove it and plant another tree in its place.  I was afraid it was now worthless…and maybe even dangerous to keep as it was.

Shortly after the hurricane, I was texting my mom about how the hurricane affected us, so I sent her a picture of the bent palm tree.  Her response was, “So that’s how palm trees end up looking like that?!?  I’ve always wondered.  Storms give them their shape!”

I responded, “Yes, they are shaped by their storm experience.”

They are shaped by the storms they experience.

And as I wrote that, I realized that this is true for us as humans, too.

We, too, are shaped by the storms we experience in life.

As the months have gone by, I’ve pondered those three palm trees, and discovered that they are symbolic of so much about life.  Perhaps the symbolism means something only to me, but I’ve felt compelled to write about it…to share these thoughts I’ve had, in case they mean something to someone else, too.

So here they are…the lessons I’ve learned from my palm trees.

1. We all respond to storms differently.

All three of my palm trees lived through the exact same storm.  Given that they are only a few feet apart, they should have had roughly the same wind speeds battering them.  Yet, they responded very differently.

One palm tree still stands tall and straight, seemingly unaffected by the storm.

The second palm tree was slightly bent by the strong winds it faced.  It still stands tall, but not quite as tall as before.

The third palm tree?  Well, that one almost died from the storm.

I don’t know why one handled the storm better than the others.  Was that the oldest tree and therefore had stronger roots because they had grown for a longer time?  Had it received better nourishment?  Did other trees nearby shelter that one a bit from the wind?  Or did a much stronger gust suddenly hit just that third tree?  I have no idea.

But isn’t this true for humans, too?  One person may handle a specific storm well, with barely any obvious signs.  For another person, that same storm may feel terribly destructive.  Sometimes a person can handle a storm well because their roots dig deep into good soil, or because their emotional nourishment has made them strong.  Or perhaps they’ve been protected by those around them.

Regardless, we respond differently to our storms – and these differences should be respected.  After all, a tree only has so much control over how much nourishment it receives!

2. Storms can change our perspective.

The third tree – the one that was bent so severely by the storm – has an entirely new perspective on the world.  (I know, I know…a tree can’t see. Just bear with me here…)  That tree will see things differently than it did before the storm.

The old perspective wasn’t wrong…it was just different than the new perspective.  It just sees the world differently now.

This is SOOO true for people.  Lose a loved one?  You see the world in a new perspective.

Have a child with severe food allergies?  New perspective.

Have a blind child or one with low vision?  New perspective.

Experience cancer?  New perspective.

Have a child that struggles to eat?  You’ll see feeding a child completely differently than you did before.

I’ve thought of this often over the last year in relation to things happening in politics.  Frankly, I attempt to avoid politics on this page, as I want it to be a place that is uplifting and encouraging, and political discussions tend to be anything but.  However, I’ve noticed that in almost every political argument I see, people tend to respond based on the storms they’ve experienced.  This was true…

…after the school shooting in Parkland, FL (less than an hour from my home).  The students and teachers there had been through an awful storm…one that nobody should ever experience.  It will color their experiences for the rest of their lives.  Their perspective on life had been forever altered and certainly impacted their views on life.

…during the Kavanaugh hearings for Supreme Court.  Almost every argument I heard (on both sides of the aisle) was greatly impacted by the person’s storms.

…in the Black Lives Matter vs. All Lives Matter discussions…

…in the controversy over standing for the National Anthem…

As we seek to understand people we interact with, it is essential to remember that each and every one of us has had storms that changed our perspective.  Perhaps, instead of immediately reacting based on our own storms, if we could instead seek to see the world from another person’s perspective, it may help us give grace to those that view the world a little differently than we do.

3.  Storms are not forever.

I’m guessing, if that third tree could talk, it would tell us that it felt like the world was ending during that storm.  And it probably felt like the wind lasted forever.

But it held on through the storm, and the storm eventually ended.  It survived, even through the fiercest winds.  It bent, yes, and it has scars, true, but it did not break.  And eventually the sun came out again.

If you’re going through a storm right now, please, for the love of all that is holy, hang on.  It probably seems impossible right now, but this storm is not forever!  The sun will indeed come out again.

4.  Storms may actually make us MORE valuable to the right people.

After I saw what Irma had done to the two palm trees, I was afraid they were worthless…that they couldn’t be salvaged…that they would have to be removed and thrown away.

So I read about palm trees on a local forum, where others were discussing their trees that were bent from the wind.  The response?  “Keep them the way they are!  It just shows that the tree has a story, so it’s more interesting this way!”  Another said, “It shows that the tree is strong!  It survived what could have killed it!”

And I asked a friend who knows a ton about local plants and trees.  His response?  “Oh, definitely keep them!  People pay extra to get unique and interesting trees like that!  It’s more valuable than it was!”

Did you catch that?  The tree has a story….it is more interesting…it is more valuable.  It’s scars show that it survived what tried to kill it.  

Your story?  The one that makes you feel worthless?  That makes you wonder if you are good for nothing anymore?  That precise story actually increases your value.  Oh, you were valuable already, but that storm made you more interesting, more unique, even more valuable.  You see, that storm that tried to break you didn’t succeed…and that gives your story power and hope for others living through their own storms.

And so, months later, I’ve left those three trees exactly like they are.  I want those constant reminders that when the storms come (which they absolutely will), I can bend, and I might get scars, but, with God’s help, I will not break.  And once the storm is over, I hope and pray that those scars that are left can give hope to others living through their own storms.