As you know, gentle reader, I love stories. As I was meditating this morning the following story emerged into my consciousness. I cannot remember when I first heard this story, it seems as if it were many seasons ago. I offer it to you this fine late-spring day.
Many years ago there lived a husband and wife and they had four children, two sons and two daughters. One day the husband and wife decided that it was time to provide their children an opportunity to learn. They gathered them together and told them that they were going to send them on a journey. The eldest, a daughter, was to leave in early winter, the next eldest, a son, was to leave in early spring, the next, also a son, was to leave in early summer, and the youngest, a daughter, was to leave in early autumn. Their task was a simple one. They were to travel by foot to a certain valley, find and observe a certain fruit tree. Then they were to travel home. After they had all returned home they would gather together and share what they had experienced.
The eldest daughter left in early winter and returned before spring. The two sons left early in their respective seasons and returned before the beginning of the following season. The youngest daughter left in early autumn and returned before winter set in. About a week after the youngest daughter had returned the parents gathered them together and asked them what they had experienced.
The eldest daughter said that the tree was bare, broken, bent, and looked as if it were anything but alive; it was, she concluded, quite ugly. The oldest son, who had traveled in spring, looked surprised and said that the tree was full of buds and was standing strong with possibility and potential. The next son said that the tree was full of leaves and fragrant flowers; it was life-full and was, in fact, quite beautiful. The youngest daughter said that the tree was full of ripe, luscious fruit and she had spent an extra day sitting and savoring the shade of the tree and the sweetness of the fruit.
The parents smiled that smile that knowing parents sometimes offer their children and then they spoke together. ‘You are each correct in what you observed,’ they said. ‘Each of you had seen only one of the seasons of the tree’s life.’ They continued, ‘Like the tree, you cannot judge a person’s life by only one season; the whole of each of us is contained in all four seasons of our lives.’ ‘These seasons of our life, like the seasons for the tree, contribute to a life-lived. Our lives are measured by all of the seasons we pass through, not just one season or one cycle.’ ‘The winters of our life offer us the opportunity to die to ourselves, to let go of that which stunts new growth, to embrace the dark night of the soul, and to prepare for new growth.’ They paused and watched their children’s faces. The parents’ faces were full of love as they looked from one child to the next. ‘The spring,’ they continued, ‘offers us new growth, new hope, new possibilities.’ ‘Spring is that time of expectation and new beginnings.’ ‘Then comes the season of summer; a time of blossoming and of embracing and living into and out of the new growth.’ ‘Finally, the autumn of our life is the time to share the fruits of our life with others. The fruits also hold the seeds of new life and new potential. Autumn is a time for sitting and savoring.’
‘All four seasons are crucial to each of us.’ ‘Too often we judge a person or we judge ourselves by only looking at one season; it is the four seasons over a life-time that truly demonstrate who each of us is.’ Again the parents paused and looked with deep love upon each of their children. ‘Embrace each season of your life. Care deeply about each one. Seek to continue to love yourself and others as you journey through each season.’ ‘And. . .’ they paused again, ‘remember that each season has its time and that each season will pass; no season is permanent.’
‘Winter,’ they concluded, ‘is the most important season for the trials of winter reveal your true character and they provide you the opportunity to learn from them. The sorrows and tears of winter nourish the seeds of healing. The failures of winter help you to be humble and are reminders that you are not perfect.’ ‘The other seasons are important AND YET they need the season of winter in order to exist, survive, grow and thrive.’ With this final statement, the parents drew each of the children close and hugged them with the hug that only comes from deep care, compassion and love.