He entered Jericho and was passing through it. A man was there named Zacchaeus; he was a chief tax-collector and was rich. He was trying to see who Jesus was, but on account of the crowd he could not, because he was short in stature. So he ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree to see him, because he was going to pass that way. When Jesus came to the place, he looked up and said to him, ‘Zacchaeus, hurry and come down; for I must stay at your house today.’
Luke 19:1-5
Many grandmothers are crafty, but Granny seemed to take it to a whole new level; she could make anything out of nothing at all, and make it look good. If anything was in any way crafty, she would give it a try. She tried her hand at papier mache, oil painting, pen and ink, charcoal, ceramic, decoupage, etc. She was an “equal opportunity” artist. Everything we experienced with her was an opportunity to explore, be creative, and especially learn more about various forms of art. If there was a 12-Step program for arts and crafts addicts, Granny should have been a charter member.
To Granny imagination was very important, and she did a lot to foster imagination in her grandchildren. She would help us make forts out of cardboard, fly our rocket ship to the moon in our little red wagon, and imagine what our lives would be like many years down the road. Our wildest dreams combined with hers were our only limitations, and there we inhabited a world without borders or limits. We could be anything and go anywhere. And that cardboard box would be transformed in our world to vast exploration of space and time; especially important in the 60’s.
Moving into a new house as a child was traumatic, and Granny recognized this better than most people. While everyone around you is concerned about getting the power turned on or the phone connected, Granny was helping to pick out a good climbing tree. Not just any tree would do either.
Granny would sit with us as the entire world was changing around us. Yet, with Granny there we never even noticed. She would discuss each tree in our new yard with us. We would discuss what kind of tree it was, and weigh its many benefits for climbing. Limbs that were sturdy and reachable were important, but also sufficient height to see beyond our limited confines.
In the spring of 1969 my mother, sister, and I moved in with my grandparents where we took up residence for about the next year. This was not an easy move on anyone involved. This is where Granny’s artistic side really helped to soften the blow and make the transition more palatable. For that year my sister and I made more crafts, did more drawings, and more paintings than we ever knew existed. It was amazing many years later when each of us discovered that Granny had kept most of that artwork for posterity and very sentimental reasons. We stayed continuously busy. However, one of the things that she introduced to me was a great climbing tree.
In our home we had previously lived in there was a tree bordering our house and our neighbor’s; it was a large apple tree. It was filled with limbs that went in a myriad of different directions, each offering the opportunity to climb to different heights and gain different perspectives. From those limbs I could go anywhere and be anything, and I would spend hours in that tree. However, being an apple tree I was also able to enjoy one of my favorite fruits and never have to leave my “wooden fortress”. In that incredible apple tree though I learned where my fantastic world of make-believe and the real world collided.
As a child, if one piece of chocolate is good then certainly ten pieces would be great; if one donut takes the edge off your hunger then after about twelve donuts you are satisfied completely. I applied the same logic to the apples in my apple tree; if one would be scrumptious then five would be over the moon. And, I was way over the moon stopping only when I reached about ten of those slightly tart and wonderful green apples. Oh yes, did I mention they were green? Well, they were, and I revisited those apples for many hours throughout that night because not only had I eaten way too many but they were green; not a lesson I plan on repeating – once was perfectly sufficient for a lifetime.
In the back of Granny’s yard stood a line of a variety of different trees that bordered her property and the neighbor behind her. There, unfortunately, was no apple tree, but only a crab apple tree. Not only were its limbs pitifully small but so was its fruit with a flavor that would turn your mouth inside out with its tartness; I know this because I tried them. There was a pine tree, with great and mighty limbs, and enough pine sap to thoroughly destroy all my clothing. There were a couple of scrubby little trees that honestly looked more like bushes. In the midst of them all, though, there was one oak that was perfect.
It was sturdy with a glimmering gray bark. It had large limbs jutting out at just the right angles to gain a strong purchase and make my way up into its confines. I could climb up a few levels and gain a different perspective on the world or I could stay low on a limb that would hold me like I was in bed.
Granny explored that tree with me and helped me to ensure that it was the right tree for me and assess it for my purposes. It was perfect, and it offered me a refuge from which I was able to discern a world that had gone crazy. It was a place that I could climb to the stars and join the astronauts that had so frequently escaped the bonds of earth in the previous few years. It was just what I needed, and Granny helped me to find it.
About a year later, when my mother remarried, we moved into our new home about 30 minutes away. With Granny’s encouragement, one of my first goals at our new home was to find my new tree. I eventually found several in the expanse of woods behind our house and across the street from it as well. However, my first foray into the selection of “my tree” was to a sad looking pine tree in our front yard.
This tree went up only about 8 or 10 feet before it started making a marked sweep out so that by the time you were only about 12 feet up the tree it was nearly parallel with the ground and just a few feet further it actually started pointing back to the ground. This, in no way, discouraged me from giving this tree a try.
I began to shimmy up the tree, and within just a few seconds had already reached the part where I was parallel with the ground. There were no limbs or anything to grab onto, but on I climbed. By the time I was up what should have been about 20 feet on the tree I was probably only 7 or 8 feet off the ground. That was actually quite fortunate because my grip slipped and I came crashing back to the ground flat on my back. Any air that may have been in my body was immediately expelled, and I quickly determined that just about any other tree would be a better choice. For the balance of the time we called that location our home I had a plethora of trees to choose from that worked well for my purposes; just not that one.
Luke 19:1-5
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| Detail from painting of Jesus and Zacchaeus. (Saint Andrew Bible Missal, 1962) |
Many grandmothers are crafty, but Granny seemed to take it to a whole new level; she could make anything out of nothing at all, and make it look good. If anything was in any way crafty, she would give it a try. She tried her hand at papier mache, oil painting, pen and ink, charcoal, ceramic, decoupage, etc. She was an “equal opportunity” artist. Everything we experienced with her was an opportunity to explore, be creative, and especially learn more about various forms of art. If there was a 12-Step program for arts and crafts addicts, Granny should have been a charter member.
To Granny imagination was very important, and she did a lot to foster imagination in her grandchildren. She would help us make forts out of cardboard, fly our rocket ship to the moon in our little red wagon, and imagine what our lives would be like many years down the road. Our wildest dreams combined with hers were our only limitations, and there we inhabited a world without borders or limits. We could be anything and go anywhere. And that cardboard box would be transformed in our world to vast exploration of space and time; especially important in the 60’s.
Moving into a new house as a child was traumatic, and Granny recognized this better than most people. While everyone around you is concerned about getting the power turned on or the phone connected, Granny was helping to pick out a good climbing tree. Not just any tree would do either.
Granny would sit with us as the entire world was changing around us. Yet, with Granny there we never even noticed. She would discuss each tree in our new yard with us. We would discuss what kind of tree it was, and weigh its many benefits for climbing. Limbs that were sturdy and reachable were important, but also sufficient height to see beyond our limited confines.
In the spring of 1969 my mother, sister, and I moved in with my grandparents where we took up residence for about the next year. This was not an easy move on anyone involved. This is where Granny’s artistic side really helped to soften the blow and make the transition more palatable. For that year my sister and I made more crafts, did more drawings, and more paintings than we ever knew existed. It was amazing many years later when each of us discovered that Granny had kept most of that artwork for posterity and very sentimental reasons. We stayed continuously busy. However, one of the things that she introduced to me was a great climbing tree.
In our home we had previously lived in there was a tree bordering our house and our neighbor’s; it was a large apple tree. It was filled with limbs that went in a myriad of different directions, each offering the opportunity to climb to different heights and gain different perspectives. From those limbs I could go anywhere and be anything, and I would spend hours in that tree. However, being an apple tree I was also able to enjoy one of my favorite fruits and never have to leave my “wooden fortress”. In that incredible apple tree though I learned where my fantastic world of make-believe and the real world collided.
As a child, if one piece of chocolate is good then certainly ten pieces would be great; if one donut takes the edge off your hunger then after about twelve donuts you are satisfied completely. I applied the same logic to the apples in my apple tree; if one would be scrumptious then five would be over the moon. And, I was way over the moon stopping only when I reached about ten of those slightly tart and wonderful green apples. Oh yes, did I mention they were green? Well, they were, and I revisited those apples for many hours throughout that night because not only had I eaten way too many but they were green; not a lesson I plan on repeating – once was perfectly sufficient for a lifetime.
In the back of Granny’s yard stood a line of a variety of different trees that bordered her property and the neighbor behind her. There, unfortunately, was no apple tree, but only a crab apple tree. Not only were its limbs pitifully small but so was its fruit with a flavor that would turn your mouth inside out with its tartness; I know this because I tried them. There was a pine tree, with great and mighty limbs, and enough pine sap to thoroughly destroy all my clothing. There were a couple of scrubby little trees that honestly looked more like bushes. In the midst of them all, though, there was one oak that was perfect.
It was sturdy with a glimmering gray bark. It had large limbs jutting out at just the right angles to gain a strong purchase and make my way up into its confines. I could climb up a few levels and gain a different perspective on the world or I could stay low on a limb that would hold me like I was in bed.
Granny explored that tree with me and helped me to ensure that it was the right tree for me and assess it for my purposes. It was perfect, and it offered me a refuge from which I was able to discern a world that had gone crazy. It was a place that I could climb to the stars and join the astronauts that had so frequently escaped the bonds of earth in the previous few years. It was just what I needed, and Granny helped me to find it.
About a year later, when my mother remarried, we moved into our new home about 30 minutes away. With Granny’s encouragement, one of my first goals at our new home was to find my new tree. I eventually found several in the expanse of woods behind our house and across the street from it as well. However, my first foray into the selection of “my tree” was to a sad looking pine tree in our front yard.
This tree went up only about 8 or 10 feet before it started making a marked sweep out so that by the time you were only about 12 feet up the tree it was nearly parallel with the ground and just a few feet further it actually started pointing back to the ground. This, in no way, discouraged me from giving this tree a try.
I began to shimmy up the tree, and within just a few seconds had already reached the part where I was parallel with the ground. There were no limbs or anything to grab onto, but on I climbed. By the time I was up what should have been about 20 feet on the tree I was probably only 7 or 8 feet off the ground. That was actually quite fortunate because my grip slipped and I came crashing back to the ground flat on my back. Any air that may have been in my body was immediately expelled, and I quickly determined that just about any other tree would be a better choice. For the balance of the time we called that location our home I had a plethora of trees to choose from that worked well for my purposes; just not that one.
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