Picking up Pine Needles
For us Catholics, we are post-Epiphany and the Christmas season drawing to a close. Last night, my children and I spent time "deconstructing" the Christmas tree. My oldest son dragged the remains of it out the front door, and we dutifully packed up our decorations. This morning I am to complete the clean-up process we started... my task is to finish picking up the wayward pine needles.
I decided to start outdoors and work in. As I came out the front door, I saw that the deer knocked over St. Francis again. (See Jan 07 post!) I picked him up as ice-encrusted snow stuck to him from head to toe. I had my broom handy since I was about to sweep up the thick trail of pine needles from our once-live Christmas tree that was winding down our walkway from our front door. I broomed off Francis and got to work on those stubborn little needles now sticking to the cold ground. I mused about the many thousands of pine needles I must have swept up over the 23 years I have owned a home, chuckled to myself, and came inside.
You know, I never really get all the needles picked up. Either, I'm not an aggressive housekeeper, or my eyesight really is going! I know I'll be dusting a window ledge months from now and I'll probably pick up a few more I've missed. Or I'll be turning over a carpet, or moving the sofa, and spot needles that escaped my attention. I remember one year-- on Good Friday--I was picking up in the family room and, lo and behold, a lone pine needle dropped from the side of the baseboard--and it's presence took me, methaphorically, through the life of Christ in that one instance--from his birth at Christmas, symbolized by the pine tree needle, right to the "tree" of Calvary. It was all in full view, right in the little green needle.
Isn't it amazing, when we look at life with the eyes of faith, even the tiniest speck of creation, can show us the greatest mysteries of God? All things echo his Name.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
I decided to start outdoors and work in. As I came out the front door, I saw that the deer knocked over St. Francis again. (See Jan 07 post!) I picked him up as ice-encrusted snow stuck to him from head to toe. I had my broom handy since I was about to sweep up the thick trail of pine needles from our once-live Christmas tree that was winding down our walkway from our front door. I broomed off Francis and got to work on those stubborn little needles now sticking to the cold ground. I mused about the many thousands of pine needles I must have swept up over the 23 years I have owned a home, chuckled to myself, and came inside.
You know, I never really get all the needles picked up. Either, I'm not an aggressive housekeeper, or my eyesight really is going! I know I'll be dusting a window ledge months from now and I'll probably pick up a few more I've missed. Or I'll be turning over a carpet, or moving the sofa, and spot needles that escaped my attention. I remember one year-- on Good Friday--I was picking up in the family room and, lo and behold, a lone pine needle dropped from the side of the baseboard--and it's presence took me, methaphorically, through the life of Christ in that one instance--from his birth at Christmas, symbolized by the pine tree needle, right to the "tree" of Calvary. It was all in full view, right in the little green needle.
Isn't it amazing, when we look at life with the eyes of faith, even the tiniest speck of creation, can show us the greatest mysteries of God? All things echo his Name.
Copyright 2006 Patricia W. Gohn
posted by Pat Gohn at
1/10/2006
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