My tree story begins in the summer of 1965. A wonderful park about a quarter-mile from our house, called Willow Park, was filled with beautiful willow trees. You could enjoy a relaxing day swimming and a picnic surrounded by the willow trees. About 10 years later, my family lived in a trailer park. My grandmother had gone to Florida. She was well known for taking cuttings of plants and planting them. She had brought back a snipped branch of a willow tree which she gave to my mom, and my dad planted it. Before long the tree was a pretty good size that really added beauty to the yard. We found out the land was being sold to make way for a gas station and we would have to move. The tree had become quite a beautiful tree, reminding me of the trees from Willow Park. My dad tried to destroy the tree before they came to cut it down, but it kept on growing. Eventually the land was cleared, but I'll always look at the willow tree as something that represents peace and tranquility and strength and resilience.
