“Slow down. Take a
deep breath. What's the hurry?" ~ Jeremiah
2:25
He paused, leaning for a moment on
his old red rake. Jacob knew there were faster
methods, but ‘raking’ leaves brought back warm memories. He drew a refreshing breath and listened to
the autumn breeze as it whispered through the outspread arms of the maple trees
that made their homes in his yard.
A single leaf fell slowly from its previous host, twirling silently
as it landed near his boots. He admired
its golden canvass tinged with auburn accents.
Jacob looked up at the tree that he and Dad planted some 50 years
ago. Its tangled branches, silhouetted
against a blue grey sky, seemed to touch the soft clouds.
But that of course was an illusion, like life sometimes; things
aren’t always as they seem. What had
seemed like an arduous task back then was actually a life lesson. His Dad was gone now, but his traditions
remained; his wisdom preserved.
Dad taught him how to rake leaves when he was seven years
old, even building a special kid-sized rake for Jacob. Sweeping away the
decomposing leaves would allow sunlight to warm the soil below and the grass to
breathe. But one had to take care not to
damage the roots. “Like raising
children,” Dad explained, “you had to be firm enough to teach kids
responsibility, but gentle enough to allow for growth.”
Back then, fallen leaves were not the enemy of well-coiffed
lawns. Raking leaves was an opportunity
to get some exercise, and fresh air, and create family memories.
He thought back to the days when this same yard had been
alive with kid’s laughter. His dog
Ginger loved autumn; running and romping through the leaves. Eventually she’d sit in the middle of a pile
and thump her tail as if looking for approval to lie down. Then she’d take a deep sigh and fall fast
asleep. “Let sleeping dogs lie,” Dad
would say.
In his mind’s eye, Jacob could still see the tree house he
and Dad had built together. He and his
pals spent hours giggling, making secret plans and eating snacks in the
sanctity of their sky fort.
Every birthday, Dad took a picture of him standing next to
the old maple. It was amazing to see how
with each passing year, both he and the tree grew taller and stronger.
And finally, after they’d finished raking, Dad chased Jacob
around the pile several times before picking him up and launching him into it. The leaves were so soft; he sank right into
the pile and couldn’t stop laughing. Work
was supposed to be fun too, Dad would remind him. It was one of the happiest memories from his
childhood. Thanks Dad!
Lord, my life seems to be a daily race
against time. Help me live at a gentler
pace and pause to savor life’s experiences more fully. And remind me that saying ‘no’ to one thing means
leaving room for ‘yes’ in other, more meaningful areas. Amen
