Abuela and The Hand of Adversity

If you liked reading this, click the ❤️ button so more people can discover it on Substack Born of a singular seed planted in the middle of a field, Abuela grew up having enough water, sunlight, and nutrients to get by. When she was 6 years old and 16 feet high, a cloud covered the sun and stayed there. Days passed and then weeks. Leaves withered. Branches weakened.

Starving and on the brink of death, an innate wisdom told her to conserve her energy and remaining nutrients. She twisted upon herself, and the two main branches fell to the earth leaving her grossly asymmetrical.

The humble farmer who had planted her lamented the loss of her youthful beauty and imagined her suffering emotionally at this loss.

Yet, even as shadows sought to smother her, Abuela’s noble heart shone brightly. Her canopy still whispered sweetly to the grass beneath, caressed the playful squirrels, and cradled a wise old owl who called her "Home." She had a purpose that those in the lush greenhouses of nobility could not imagine. And this alone sustained her.

One evening, the storm suddenly stopped. In the morning, the oak rejoiced, devouring rays of sunlight. Within days, her natural color reappeared. She began again to seek stability and health in her branch structure, increasing total surface area of her leaves. Rather than regrowing the outcasted branches, she grew wider on the side that still lived.

94 more years passed, and she continued to grow wider, sheltering those below and amongst her. In time, her branches touched the ground where they were to remain. And it is in front of this tree that we now stand, on her 100th birthday. Abuela — Grandmother, whose beauty so many millions have come to witness. Beauty carved by the hand of adversity.

Picture: The famous “Angel Oak” in Charleston, SC.