[dropcap background=”yes” color=”#333333″ size=”50px”]I[/dropcap] was really moved by a passage I read yesterday, from the short story, “Soft Sculpture” by science fiction writer Theodore Sturgeon.

The story is of a young woman,who in the midst of a spiritual crisis, happens upon a lonely older man performing scientific experiments in his orchard. She has arrived there completely by happenstance, and in her wanderings she finds the irrefutable power of love.

At first glance, you might think the story to be limited to just these two characters – but, upon deeper examination and you’ll find the story is one of humanity.

On one hand, you have the heart of a woman who takes it upon blind faith that within all of us there is some measure of light. And that this light, serves to carry us through even our most difficult times.

And, on the other hand, you have that of another man, whose heart has become hardened by the challenges he has faced.

In this story, I suppose we might all identify with both characters – as, it’s never fully one or another. Quite the opposite, in fact – as a deepening of our spiritual roots often requires a great bit of digging…

And, a little “fertilizer” now and then – if you know what I mean.

Interestingly enough, the story is one of balance. To the rigid scientist, this balance occurs at a molecular level and for the young girl, balance is a matter of faith and spirit.

At first, you might think these to be the only two characters of the story…but, look again and you’ll see that a bonsai tree carefully tended through the years is the third.

For, in its twisted branches the scientist poured his love. And though not explicitly stated, I sense the scientist felt it was the only life he could save.

Bonsai is such an art, you see – and, the trees selected for the honor are never the ones we might expect. Rather, they are typically those tossed aside by the nurseries – deemed not worthy for prominent display.

And yet, it’s within these twisted, gnarled branches that true perfection is born.

The story ends with the following passage, too brilliant to be limited by summary, in which the young girl offers to the soured old man,

“People are living, growing things too. I don’t know a hundredth part of what you do about bonsai, but I do know this: when you start one, it isn’t often the strong straight healthy ones you take. It’s the twisted sick ones that can be made most beautiful. When you get to shaping humanity, you might remember that. You do that by watering one side, or turning it just so in the sun. You handle it as if it were a living thing, like a species or a woman or a bonsai. It will be what you want it to be if you let it be itself and take the time and care.”

Indeed, if only we might learn to handle humanity with the same care as that of a living being – we might find our faith would be restored.

The final question she asks of the old man is brilliantly poignant,

“Do you think two sick twisted trees ever made bonsai out of one another?”

What do you think, my dears? Is it possible that two broken spirits might make something beautiful together?

Oh, and p.s. – spoiler alert: The bonsai is humanity.

Much love, and many blessings, my dears ~