is like a tree. His roots soak up experiences and build into who he is. He may grow up straight and tall or end up with a bent trunk as he finds a more indirect path to the sun. Just as leaves cover a tree and tell us what kind of tree it is; a man puts out fruit that shows us who he is. Storms come and leave knots and scars. Sometimes branches are pruned away to make room for new or better growth. Occasionally, a hole is worn or grows into the tree leaving a place for all sorts of things to come and live. So too it is with a man and his heart.
To gaze upon a tree in winter, leafless and bare is like looking at the heart of a man. All the fluff has fallen away and you simply see his frame, the structure- his fragility and strength. If a branch should fall and leave him further exposed you may be left with the rare opportunity to count his rings- to see his soul.
Redwoods interlock roots.
