The Tree of Life

Exactly a year ago from December 31, 2070, I remember the evening of my vision. I can
only assume it was a vision because there is no other explanation. Though why it happened the
way it did, I have no idea. As the year 2070s cover closes, Im reminded of a promise I made,
and this year seems as good as any.
So there I was, at 6 oclock on a shadowy evening as I walked through the park with my
back to the sun. My shadow grew longer and longer as I walked over the river on the little
footbridge, studying the shimmering glass of the water sheet below. Continuing on, I spotted the
tree, my tree, with its spreading branches and absent leaves and massive roots poking out of the
ground like an oceans waves. My eyes dropped to my lengthening shadow, floating along the
cracked sidewalk when my shadow grew larger and, wider, until it diverged completely, forming
an entirely new shadow. A deja vu sensation washed over me: it was exactly like mine.
Continuing to walk, I stared at the shadow until I stumbled, nearly hitting the ground but
for firm hands, gently righting me. My eyes slowly traveled up the young girl until I was met by
hazel green eyes, concern evident.
Are you okay? she asked gently, slowly releasing me as a mother would her child on
the first day of school.
Quite so, my dear. I thank you. I continued to look into her eyes. What is your name?
I didnt know what I hoped to accomplish, but something was so familiar about her. A
past acquaintance? An acquaintances daughter?

Bethany. She said, shifting from one foot to the other as her eyes began to stray.
Bethany, I murmured. It cant be.
Please, would you like to sit down? The younger Bethany cautiously brought me over
to where the bench lay beneath the massive apple tree, now bare and shivering in the wind.
We sat and her hands began to fidget as the minutes ticked by, my eyes wide and intent
on her.
Tell me, where are you from? I asked quietly, practically inaudibly.
Well, I was born here but raised in California, she replied, talking quickly into the
fading Oregon sun. Im visiting some friends with my family for Christmas and New Year.
Well my dear, I stated after a pause. I guess Im going to just have to say it flat out.
My name is Bethany too. And I believe that you are a version of my younger self.
I let that settle in before attempting to speak. Im sure you dont believe it, but I can
prove it. How old are you?
Fifteen, she said in a small voice.
Then what year is this?
2014.
I see. So youre in the middle of your Sophomore year, correct?
She nodded her head hesitantly, seeming a bit confused.

Then Hannahs in her senior year, Caleb in 8th, and its Lucass first year of
homeschool. I added quickly. She looked puzzled and shook her head. I mentally reviewed what
I had said. I was sure I was right.
How does that prove to me that youre telling the truth? There was a firm light in her
eyes as she said this and gave me a questioning look. Now it was my turn to squirm. How could I
prove it to her?
Youre beginning to question yourself, your family, your faith. Youre worried that your
family will not recover from the worlds knife buried deep into the center of your familys
hearts. The younger girl looked utterly shocked. I saw the first of tears beginning to sprout in
her eyes, now turning to a light shade of gray as the turmoil going on inside of her began to
show.
How . . how did you know? She cried out softly. I havent told anyone that. Not in my
entire life. Her eyes grew wide as she realized the truth of that statement. I looked at her with
what I hoped was gentleness. No words were needed to express our thoughts at this moment.
Why was God having us meet just now? On the threshold of death, and the window to adulthood.
I had never had an older version come to me. Had I?
What happens in my life? The younger Bethany had stopped crying and sniffed away
tears. How do I change?
I couldnt help but laugh at that. I always did like to read the back of books; you to?
Her eyes were twinkling in the fading sun as she laughed in merriment.

Of course. It drives Hannah and my mom crazy, but it helps me not cry at the end of
books. She looked stricken. They dont die, do they? She asked quietly.
Bethany, death is just a part of life. Do you remember the sonnet you had to memorize
freshman year? She nodded her head. What does it say?
She drew a big breath, and I stopped her just in time. Not a full recitation, honey. Just
the last lines. She gave me a pouting face, but obliged.
This thou perceivest, which makes thy love more strong, to love that well which thou
must leave ere long. She nodded her head bravely.
I can, however, tell you some other things. She nodded eagerly, so I continued. Life
isnt a breeze, so remember that sometimes youll feel like Hephaestus, being thrown off the
mountain. But when you remember who you belong to, youll feel like a queen. She smiled at
this, but she didnt seem to quite grasp the thought.
My point was proved by what she said next, You wouldnt believe how many times Ive
heard that. She was just short of rolling her eyes. I gave her a disapproving look.
Do you see that massive tree behind us? She turned and shook her head.
You dont? She shook her head again. I had forgotten that she was in the year 2014. I
dug around in my pockets until I found it. Do you know what this is? Bethany shook her head.
Its a seed. For that massive tree you cant see right now. Now, how does this seed grow?
With sunlight and rain and good soil and through photosynthesis -

Thats enough, I said with a chuckle. It needs sunlight. Thats like God, because he is
everlasting and will never fade, but if other trees get in the way and try to choke out the young
seedling with advice and human wisdom, even with good intent, that tree will grow in doubt and
concern because humans arent perfect. But if that tree is allowed a chance to see God for who he
is, to understand and be surrounded by good people to encourage their faith, then that tree will
grow to be strong and healthy and rooted in faith. Do you see what I mean? You might be
struggling with your doubts right now, but trust in God, and he will give you roots that will go
deep and spread to others.
After this speech, she gingerly took the little seed out of my hand and studied it in awe. I
hadnt thought of it that way before, she said gently. Can I give you something? Without an
answer, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a pen. If you remember, you liked to write,
but I dont know if you ever got the chance to write that book or story. But could you promise me
to write this down, so that we can remember each other? I want to read your book someday and
be reminded of the hope you have restored in me. Thank you. And without another word, we
rose and parted, each feeling like we were parting with a half of ourselves.
The shadows had long been forgotten as I turned towards home in darkness, but I looked
back, feeling like Lots wife. I saw the tree gaping in the black night as the stars shone with a
brilliant light.
This vision I had was so strange that I tried to imagine how to write it. Everyday I
returned, hoping to meet with myself again. But looking back, I realized how much I had

changed. I had been hiding from my past, painful reminders of what I didnt have, instead of
being thankful for what I did have, like in the final line of a Shakespearean sonnet: To love that
well which thou must leave ere long.