The Dogwoods

Legend tells us Jesus died on a dogwood. The dogwood tree was the largest tree available in Jerusalem and so therefore used often for crucifixions. Afterward, Our Lord changed the tree, making its trunk smaller and its branches twisted, preventing it from being used as a torture device any longer. He made the beautiful white flowers stained with red, symbolizing His holy wounds and crown of thorns.

And it's my favorite tree. Each year, it blooms for such a short time and the woods light up with a dusty white. As soon as you appreciate their flowers and little white shows of happiness, they're gone. The trees melt back into green and you can't distinguish them anymore from any other tree in your backyard. 

I find them so poetic and romantic. Some English major should write an entire paper on the symbolism of the dogwood. On its meaning and place in life. I love that this little tree is a reminder of the saddest, darkest day the world has ever known and yet God, in His infinite goodness and mercy, makes it the herald for spring, the ultimate re-do, re-start, re-charge, re-birth of life!

I sat outside yesterday while my babies played and Ellie continued believing she is Elsa or Anna (depending on the moment and the mood) from Disney's Frozen. She's quite taken with the idea of being a princess with magical powers and a sidekick who's a talking snowman. I mean, who isn't? Nick says she needs real friends. 

While I watched a storm come in, I noticed the early poppings of dogwoods. Some, across the street, were in full expression, opened flat against the rain. Others, like the one in our yard, just barely waking up with little yellow buds not stretched out yet and determined to make it to Easter for their show. (Another point the English major should make in his paper. Dogwoods always open during the Lenten/Easter season. Ironic. . .I think not.) It was a perfect spring afternoon, in my little corner of the world. All was hopeful and smelling of rain.