In every seed

In every little thing, comes another of great wonder and splendor. In every little creature starts a new life, a beginning of a new, dawning era of hopes and dreams.

It was a fine, warm day. The birds were singing haughtily on top of dead tree stumps posing as wire supports. I pity these birds for they know not the beauty of the green leaves that once sprung in that human-beleaguered tree.

It was long ago when men value the works of nature with resounding respect, treating it as if it was something human; no that was an understatement because as a matter of fact, it was revered to as more than human. There were myths written to them and for them, stating that every inch of their thick, wrinkled trunk shows imbued knowledge fortified by eons of existence, making it a more formidable and a highly impassable creation of God.

But the boastful Ruler-of-All started questioning every bit of authority the trees has commanded. He started to strip away the qualities that make the trees whole and admirable. He ruined its blossoms, which prevents its fruits from sprouting and cut its powerful torso to state his dominance on all living things. He took more than he could carry and bitten off more than he could feed himself. Nature, again, have been the unwary target of man’s vicious entities, primarily, the manifestation of greed, lust and gluttony. For times so many, man has desecrated the sanctity of Nature, the very one whom he calls home and mother.

But though man has that oblique supremacy to devour anything on its straightforward and commonly erring paths, man also has that uncanny capability to restore what he has consumed. It is a God given gift to us that we should do in order to keep the balance of our Mother Nature.

Last Saturday, we were assigned for a project. It was quite boring when we assumed that position first. We were tasked a tree-planting activity and we were not very anxious about this. Oh come on! With all the work on our tireless, computing hands! But then again, something on the back of our heads told us that it is a part of the social responsibility we must do. It was actually more than just any other social-programs because it was for the benefit of all; humans, animals, and plants alike.

We started planting trees and not only did the bonding moments tasted sweeter than ever, without all those scholastic hindrances cracking our heads like crows on pumpkins, but also because of the free time I got to think. It made me see clear and past the mundane world of urban mediocrity. These trees, these little, God-graced trees, they will eventually grow up. With proper care and continuous maintenance they will soon be reaching for the sky with their outstretched branches. Sooner or later, they will be taller than humans and they will fruit vigorously, showering those near them with sweet delicacies intended for their liking.

Then, an icicle of cold and hard imagination dawned on me, like something that was familiar, yet seemingly elusive due to work overload. With a thunderclap inside my head, I realized that it was a graceful formation of thoughts. Similes and metaphors were racing inside and there was no stopping for the red light had suddenly gone out of order.

These trees, they are like us. We were just too arrogant to admit but they are like us. They live, they eat, they grow up and yes, eventually they die. But death is not at all important. It is what you do when you were still alive that matters. It starts from a seed. Our country must start changing at its seeds: individuals must change for the development of this institution. It grows strong with maintenance and grooming. Of course, even if the individuals are willing to change, there must be something that would maintain such willingness and order; a body to govern. A termite should be squished immediately because it will grow and outnumber the trees’ defenses, causing its immediate death from the hands of unworthiness, its dreams cast into the abyss of oblivion. With proper nourishment it will reach out a hand to the heavens, as if longing for it to rain down exceedingly on its parched entirety. When everyone thinks not for his own sake but for the good of others, we will soar higher than this and everything will be just like a wait for rain to wash away the heat of the sun.

It is a project yes. A tree-planting project imposed on us as a requirement. But all understands that it is of such importance. As the day progresses and as the sun’s mighty rays shift its gaze to other lands, I look into the things I’ve done with much appreciation and pride. I have helped our nature. I have helped the country in my own little way. True, as of this moment, my means of help might be labeled as insignificant, but that is nothing compared to the satisfaction it has given me. And as the minutes inched slowly on my wristwatch, I know that in this way and like this tree, every big thing, every great award, and every magnanimous victory must start with every little baby steps. Like this tree, it must start with budding first its first petals, leaves and acorns. It must get proper nutrition for it to grow and be mature enough to withstand storms that are inevitable on its way to the top. I strongly believe that if humans would just stop bickering at one another and accept their frailty once and for all, then it will all be fine. I guess we could learn a lesson from the trees from time to time. That even though they are as silent as the graves, they work inside and try to make a change