In Touch and Trees

Early this week I bought a new tree, a Purple Robed Locust. It was a tree from my childhood. It was the same type of one that I had played under when the summers were long and the grass was green, with clover to search through for ones that were 4-leafed. In late spring it gets beautiful light purple drooping clusters of fragrant flowers.

It was in the front yard of the Luke's home on 560 North in Provo. I spent many hours at their home and learned to love plants and trees because of Mrs. Zelda Luke. She was always outside gardening, while we were playing in her yard. I had to get a pussy-willow, a filbert bush and those autumn fiery red sumacs for my own yard. Oh, the wonders of the apricot tree or the little alcove with grapes and the rusty old springs of a bed to sit in and just talk and live life as a little kid.

We played "blocks and little people", known only to a few close friends and great imaginations, not to mention the patience of Jayne's parents. We played it in their front room and it could last for days. We started with choosing different pieces of wood to build a miniature house floor, room by room, with all the furniture, too. All the wood pieces were in a few orange boxes and we used them over and over, season after season for years. They finally built a family room at the back of the house and it was larger, so we moved into it. We had plastic little figurines (snow white, grass green, and so many more, mostly Disney characters) that we could choose from for the people to live their lives and for us to pretend... oh, the lessons learned and the imaginations that grew. What a blessed bunch of us to have such a happy 50's childhood, all because of the Luke’s. I still can remember the sight of her Dad, Theron, coming home from the Daily Herald and tippy-toeing, oh so carefully through the few empty spaces on his front room carpet.

Zelda fed us the best brown bread, cooked in a Peter Pan Peanut Butter round can. I can still smell it and taste it and it was glorious. She was a very thoughtful Primary teacher and gave me my first New Testament, in a special handmade light saddle brown felt pouch adorned with our own initials in green, cut painstakingly from loving well-used hands. It is still one of my treasures. She taught us to love the outdoors and even as far back as I can remember to take care of our land. From the depression-aged people (her and my folks) we were taught to use what we had and not to waste, water, electricity, clothes or food. A valuable lesson we are still learning to this day in the age of conservancy and recycling.

Back to the significance of the tree: early before he went to work, Brent dug a large hole for me. Later when I came out, I dug some more, and planted this wonderful tree to be, including some vole poison mixed in the planting dirt, around the roots. It was quite a job for me to get the tree into the hole and to mix the dirt and plant it just right. I was tired, so came back to the patio, to grab a soda and rest in my blue Mexican string, sitting hammock. The phone rings, I never would have heard it way back in the back of the yard, and it was Jayne. Not even 5 minutes after I had finished planting that special tree and having thoughts of all the beauty and the fun times we had had as kids under the Luke's tree, and hopes of fun times to be, for us and the grandkids, she called to say her Mom had passed away.

She had just had her 99th birthday and they were all happy and blessed for her to go on to a better place. She wouldn't have liked all the celebrity when she turned 100. She gave her body to the U for research. She didn't want a funeral or any fuss. She was a private and mostly shy person. I loved her and all she added to my life. She was a humanitarian and ‘the’ ultimate recycler, even in her death.