Poem: My Father and the Fig Tree
For other fruits, my father was indifferent.
He'd point at the cherry trees and say,
"See those? I wish they were figs."
In the evening he sat by my beds
weaving folktales like vivid little scarves.
They always involved a fig tree.
Even when it didn't fit, he'd stick it in.
Once Joha was walking down the road
and he saw a fig tree.
Or, he tied his camel to a fig tree and went to sleep.
Or, later when they caught and arrested him,
his pockets were full of figs.
At age six I ate a dried fig and shrugged.
"That's not what I'm talking about! he said,
"I'm talking about a fig straight from the earth –
gift of Allah! -- on a branch so heavy
it touches the ground.
I'm talking about picking the largest, fattest,
sweetest fig
in the world and putting it in my mouth."
(Here he'd stop and close his eyes.)
Years passed, we lived in many houses,
none had fig trees.
We had lima beans, zucchini, parsley, beets.
"Plant one!" my mother said.
but my father never did.
He tended garden half-heartedly, forgot to water,
let the okra get too big.
"What a dreamer he is. Look how many
things he starts and doesn't finish."
The last time he moved, I got a phone call,
My father, in Arabic, chanting a song
I'd never heard. "What's that?"
He took me out back to the new yard.
There, in the middle of Dallas, Texas,
a tree with the largest, fattest,
sweetest fig in the world.
"It's a fig tree song!" he said,
plucking his fruits like ripe tokens,
emblems, assurance
of a world that was always his own.
--------------Naomi Shihab Nye (1952- ) St. Louis-born Palestinian American poet, songwriter, and novelist, from 19 Varieties of Gazelle.
Proverb:
“The single greatest lesson the garden teaches is that our relationship to the planet need not be zero-sum and that as long as the sun still shines and people still can plan and plant, think and do, we can, if we bother to try, find ways to provide for ourselves without diminishing the world.”
----------------Michael Pollan (1955- ), American journalist, environmentalist, author, critic of modern agribusiness, proponent of ethical eating
Painting: The Vine Dresser and the Fig Tree, James Tissot, France, 1886-1994
Prayer: Tended By God
We rise to center our life within You, Most Holy One:
let us kindle a song of praise within our souls,
and gather together in prayer and and faithfulness.
Plant our spirits firmly with the garden of your grace, O God,
that our roots may go deep in hope,
and we may stand upright in the company of the faithful,
nourished by your Word.
You lift up our heads when they are bowed down, Lord Christ,
and answer us from your dwelling-place
within our deepest heart.
May we embrace each other as You have embraced us,
O Shepherd of Our Souls,
and serve each other with grateful and humble hearts.
Spirit of the Living God,
pour out the power of love within us
and consecrate us to witness boldly
to your wisdom and truth.
Make your countenance to shine upon on, O Lord,
and grant your blessing and protection to those we remember before You.
Amen.
-----------------Leslie Barnes Scoopmire
Scripture Reference: Luke 13:1-9, 3rd Sunday in Lent C
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