In our neighborhood there is a great, big tree whose branches spread and drape gracefully far and wide. No other tree around resembles her, and our little family of three looks forward to seeing her and touching her whenever we go on our walks. Across from a creek with a little bridge the tree stately towers. In spring she produces a delicate, fresh fragrance. In summer she provides shade in the glaring, unrelenting heat. In autumn her green color remains as the other tree’s leaves are turning. But in winter … in winter we discovered she produces a beautiful cone that is shaped like a wooden rose in bloom. She is our enchanting tree and never fails to delight us. I did some research and discovered the tree’s natural habitat is in the Himalayan Mountains but it has become a popular ornamental tree in the United States. It is a Deodar cedar and has been called the most graceful cedar desired for its tall silhouette and gently drooping branches. The Sanskrit root word for “deodar” roughly translates to “wood of the Gods.” They can grow up to 250 feet in their natural habitat. In the US they reach a height of about 70 feet with a maximum spread of 40 feet. The cones take two to three years to develop as they turn from blue to reddish-brown. Today is the Winter Solstice, and yet on our morning walk she had one precious rose waiting for each of us. We all carefully held her delicate offering of wooden blossoms so perfect in their symmetry and so surprising in their shape. What a joy and what an incredible treasure. On the darkest day of the year we were each bestowed a rose by this “our” enchanted tree. They are precious and priceless and our family collection now totals sixteen. How lovely and fitting that she has even called to mind one of my very favorite Christmas hymns, “Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming”, first written in German in 1599. I love both the words and the melody and will close with the original two verses:
Lo! How a rose e’er blooming
From tender stem hath sprung!
Of Jesse’s lineage coming
As those of old have sung.It came, a flow’ret bright,
Amid the cold of winter
When half spent was the night.Isaiah ’twas foretold it,
The Rose I have in mind;
With Mary we behold it
The Virgin Mother kind.To show God’s love aright
She bore to us a Savior
When half spent was the night.
