The Parable of the Tree

Growth and archetypal belonging

Once there was a girl, about nine or ten, full of laughter, sunlight, and joy. She carried the brightness of innocence and the playfulness of dawn. But as the years passed, shadows grew heavy, and the girl was hidden away.

One day, the seeker — grown older, bearing grief — walked into the garden of the soul. There, by the pool of truth, she found her again: the child self, radiant, loving, joyful. The seeker wept with recognition, for this was the self she thought she had lost forever.

But the child only smiled and said:
“I have not been lost. I have been growing.”

And the seeker saw her take root, her small feet sinking into the soil. Her body stretched tall, her arms spread into branches, her hair became leaves shining in the sun.

The girl became a tree.
Not gone — but transformed.
Not lost — but rooted.

Now the seeker could rest in her shade, lean against her strength, and know that innocence, love, and joy had never vanished. They had only changed form, becoming a living devotion: a tree that would never leave.

For out of devotion, the child became love itself — taking the form her seeker would most understand, most trust, most need: a tree, steadfast and near.