The Happy Stump

It was that voice again.  Only this time it was whispering to me.  “If you build it, they will come.  If you build it, they will come.”  

“Who’s coming?” I thought.  “Maybe I don’t want them to come.” 

Then the voice said something completely unexpected.  It said, “Your seven grandsons, dummy.”  

So, I immediately set to work.  And now, I spend my days watching the driveway, waiting, and anticipating the coming good times of summer. 

I know The Happy Stump is kind of ugly.  But, it’s “elevated.”  And, it has steps.  And boys are not really into “pretty” anyway, when it comes to such things.  They’re much more about climbing, and jumping off, and new and exciting perspectives on the world, and “how can I make it even better.” 

The voice is right.  If I know my guys, and I do, they're coming.  And I’m certain – it won’t be ugly to them. It will be a hoot! – well, for the first fifteen minutes.

Summer version of the Happy Stump

The Back Story 

The Happy Stump actually started life as The Happy Shrub.  More than 40 years ago, it was just an innocent little Red Top Photinia.  But, over the years, it grew, and grew, and grew.  In the process it survived a lightning strike and a chronic susceptibility to a kind of Black Spot Mold which can never really be cured, only treated - if you are inclined to chronically do so.

That's where I entered the picture.  I encountered that vastly overgrown shrub (left side of the picture) about 12 years ago.  It was shedding leaves like crazy due to the mold.  So, I decided to help what was now a 40+ year old tree, I think out of a simple respect for its sheer tenacity and durability.  You hate to give up on something (or someone) who hasn’t given up on themselves. 

So, I began to gradually and slightly trim the tree to a more manageable size so I could more adequately treat its chronic mold problem.  Over time, the trimming started to change the look (and feel) of the tree.  It became a truly pleasurable thing to look at.  Its large circumference canopy and the several skinny trunks beneath, which supported that canopy, caused it to roughly take on the look of a big mushroom sporting a flat-top haircut.

It was at this point, maybe three years after we met, that this unique “tree” started to become “The Happy Tree.”  Every hot Summer in South Arkansas it provided our family with a huge circle of welcome shade.  In that summer shade, we laughed together, and ate hamburgers and homemade ice cream.  We drank cold Cokes, and told tall tales.  

We hung a rope swing from its limbs where my now older grandson’s learned to soar.  We decorated it for Christmas and July 4^th.  And, it shaded the blow-up swimming pools on many hot days.  In short that tree wormed its way into our family’s heart – well, at least, into mine.

And, in all which it did for us, it did under the burden of its chronic illness.  Every Spring and Fall the Happy Tree and I would quietly doctor its ailment.  But, I could tell that with each season things were getting worse.  Limbs began to break and fall off for no visible reason.  And so, its appearance began to change again.  And this time, not for the better. 

This all eventually became like a long, slow and sad goodbye to a friend.  It seemed to enter its final stage a couple of years ago.  Until now, the tree has become what you see it in the pictures.  Not a single new leaf appeared this year.  Obviously, my old friend had finally succumbed.

So, my initial thought was to take it all the way down to the ground.  I planted a young Mimosa Tree to replace its needed shade – though never its revered sentimental contributions.   

But, on the day I went out to begin the work of taking down the rest of the tree, out of the blue, it occurred to me that maybe The Happy Tree was not done yet.  Maybe, at least for a few more years, it could become its own memorial.  And, maybe the old tree and my newer grandsons could make a few joyous memories of their own. 

So, I used what I already had on hand, lumber left over from previous jobs, an old pallet for the floor, some screws and nails, and a slightly tattered umbrella – and “The Happy Stump” was born.  

I know the Happy Stump won’t last long.  But, while it does, it will carry on the proud traditions of the tree it once was – a tradition of laughter and good times in the hearts of children and adults alike. 

I think all of this says something regarding how easily and deeply I can relate to the life cycle of The Happy Shrub, which became The Happy Tree, which became The Happy Stump.”  Perhaps I see something of myself, at 71 years, in that tree – but with one huge difference. 

I’m no tree.  I am a man, made extremely valuable by the love of God which is set upon me.  And though, like the tree, I, too, am in a long, slow, and chronic decline.  Yet ultimately, I will rise again and be forever alive and happier than ever in Jesus Christ.   Words entirely fail my emotions when I think of it!

                                              

Where Sleep Our Children

  Lamenting the madness of abortion.

Where sleep our children in these dark days
when their laughter we long to hear?
Where are their little excited eyes
and those antics which bring us to tears?

Where are those moments when first we feel
the rhythm and rhyme of giggling time?

And oh, those games of peek-a-boo,

love so sweetly exchanged in kind.

And, what of the memories of their growth?
those times of both joy and pain,
all cherished alike, in the sharing
all counted by love as gain.

Where are our children? Oh no! Oh God!

They're victims of our own moral sleep.
For they lie in the grave of convenience,
unmourned in the graveyard of greed.

And still we slumber while they die,
as we indulge those reprobate minds,
which speak in a way that - Hey, it's OK

(said the insane to the morally blind).

                                         -Larry Burnett

What You See

  Corrective lenses, glasses, I’ve worn them since I was nine years old.  Before that ninth year, the world was a distorted and blurry place.  However, I just thought that was the way life looked.  So, I struggled in school, in sports, and in my general activities. 

  But after I got my first pair of glasses, everything changed.  I now saw life much more clearly – including the chalk board at school, the baseballs I was trying to hit and catch, and the far horizons of my surroundings.  Indeed, life dramatically changed for the better.  And, that change, changed me.

 This new perspective gave life a completely different quality and feel.  Things which had seemed so very threatening and/or frustrating to me (like fast moving baseballs) suddenly became completely nonthreatening and very manageable.

 Since those younger days, I have also discovered a whole new level of insight regarding corrective lenses.  It is this.  Life's quality very much revolves around the “corrective life-lenses” we employ to view its circumstances. 

 Obviously, life is what it is.  And, like it or not, its issues are often distorted and hard to make out.  And, so we employ psychological corrective-lenses to help us clarify those challenges.  And, sometimes they work well, and sometimes - ah, not so much. It all depends on the correctness of the prescription of those lenses. 

 For example, some choose the prescription of poor little mistreated me through which to filter life's images.  It is a bad prescription which typically engenders a very flawed picture that usually results in the off-balance life approach of demanding hatefulness. 

 But there is another life-lens which truly improves one's vision and results in a much more balanced life-approach.  It is the lens defined by Patience.  This is the life-lens which, instead of outlandishly magnifying societal tensions, enable us to see through them to discover and experience truly durable solutions - together.   

 Often, as I once did regarding my distorted view of life, we think,  "Well, that is just the way life looks."  But, in fact, when we employ a proper prescription, the feel and quality of life can, indeed, be drastically changed for the better.  And, things which previously seemed so  threatening and/or frustrating can then be made to seem completely nonthreatening  and very manageable.  

The simple truth is this. What you see in life is, indeed, precisely what you get.