The Apple Tree

Once there was a beautiful big apple tree.  
Her roots ran deep, her branches praised the heavens.  
All alone she grew (but never really alone)    
   
How she gloried in her height!  
And in the midday heat she found her hearts reward as she provided  a taste of home for the lost and hungry passerby.  
   
Oh how her apples shined!    
They were the fruit of her labor, her pride and joy, and in abundance, her stems were never bare.  
   
And just as she was about to sing praise to the Spirit that gave her drink and increase, she noticed a cool breeze start to whisper across each and every blade of the lush green meadow surrounding her.  
As slowly each drop of rain turned into falling puddles.  
Her once blue skies now overtaken by thunderous blacks and shades of grey.  
She, not knowing what to do, for never a storm such as this had she seen, shut her eyes, and braced herself in fear.  
   
As the winds ravaged her, pounding every beautiful part of her extravagant being.  
Even flooding the ground beneath, exposing her roots in weakness not days, but years this mighty storm raged.    
   
Helpless against it, her tears would eventually turn to stone and it was if the wind and rain had hardened her bark to the point of being petrified...yet impenetrable.  
   
Her once beautiful leaves were withered, and most had fallen off some time ago.  
Her fruit?    
Outside of what the winds stole, she would burry her desire to ever bear seed again.  
   
Then one morning, she at the point of death slowly opened her eyes, for suddenly her ears no longer rang from the sound of thunder.  
A stillness had surrounded her remains.    
As they slowly lifted she recognized an old friend...the Son.  
Who on that darkend day was hidden from her, oh so many years ago.  
In the quietness, she suddenly realized, it was over.  
As she inspected in disbelief that she was even still standing, a voice softly whispered to her...  
My beautiful tree, you have served your purpose, and your time is at hand.  
   
In anger the tree cried out....  
   
Where Lord!?    
And in what manner have I served thee!?    
No, I have failed thee!!  
And beautiful!? Have you seen me!?    
I once gave you the most radiant fruit, then all these years I have closed my eyes in fear!  
I knew in my heart I could no longer benefit your glory due to my weakness against the storm, so I just gave up!  
   
 The voice gently laughed....  
   
My child...my beautiful child!  
The storm was never against you, but for you.  
   
Not sure of his words, not understanding.  
She dropped her head in surrender and confusion.  
But there before her, where an open hayfield used to be, there was now an orchard of the most beautiful and bountiful apple trees one could ever imagine.  
And they were somehow familiar to her, and her heart, being illuminated, she softly whispered...  
   
Lord....forgive me.  
For now I see, the storm was never against me, but for me.  
   
And your mercy didn't let me die there in, but in it's own way, unbeknownst to me, brought me through, so that I may see the truth and the reason for which I ever stood.