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by

I stood looking out the window. There was a fierce storm blowing inside the house and out. I watched the old mighty oak that lived alone in the field across the street. It had weathered so many storms. It was battered, beaten, and damaged, yet it never lost root, never lost in its relentless fight to stay alive. When a storm came, it stood defiant, never cowering back from its formidable opponent. The winds would toss it to and fro, its leaves would scatter, but it never gave up. I turned back to face my own storm just as bravely.

5 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Christopher over 5 years ago

    As always, I really appreciate the kind words, my dear.

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt over 5 years ago

    Christopher, you are on a roll. Your fecundity is almost as impressive as your words! Thanks for such refreshing material.

  • avatar

    Christopher over 5 years ago

    Thank you, Neville, for all your support and kind words. It's much appreciated.

  • avatar

    Peter Henderson almost 3 years ago

    Oh wow, great comparison to visualize and use.

    Many thanks for sharing

  • avatar

    Christopher about 2 years ago

    Thanks, Peter.

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