Once upon a time a little acorn fell to the ground. It was a proud little acorn, after all it had been growing way up there near the top of the big oak tree but now it was so humiliated. Oh, how it bemoaned its fate for it couldn’t imagine how it could go any lower. It has reached the very depths of despair.
A squirrel, scavenging for food, found the little acorn and picked it up. The acorn thought to itself, “WHOOPEE, I am saved; no longer must I lay here in the dirt and dust all covered by leaves; now I shall be restored to the top of the tree where I belong.”
But, ’the best-laid plans of mice, men, and little acorns oft-times go awry, for the squirrel began digging.
The hole that the squirrel dug was not much of a hole as holes go, no grand canyonesque hole, huh uh, nope. It was quite an insignificant little hole, a little tiny baby hole, a hole just right for burying little acorns, sort of hole.
The squirrel dropped the acorn into the hole and with no fanfare, unceremoniously began filling it in.
The little acorn, I don’t know what its name was, or even if acorns have names, gave a tiny little cry of terror.
It should be noted that you have to listen very carefully to hear an acorn say anything and this was a very tiny acorn and not even the squirrel heard it cry out.
And now the acorn knew that it had fallen as far as an acorn could possibly fall.
The little acorn lay there in the dark under the ground and wondered if it would ever again be able to be a healthy acorn and hang high in the air and feel the rain and the wind and the warmth of the sun.
If the little acorn could have wished itself free of its earthy prison, it would have been back up there on its branch many times, but no, it was not to be,
One day, after the little acorn had accepted its fate and had adjusted to its station in life it felt something strange, a stirring within, a bursting forth, an exploding if you will.
“What is happening to me?” it shouted in its little, tiny acorn voice.
The acorn felt itself expanding, and it realized that its beautiful shell was splitting.
“Oh, I am destroyed, I am to be no more!” And it wondered if this was what it was like to die.
And time passed.
And then one day the little acorn woke to realize that it was no longer under the ground!
Something wonderful had happened; something the little acorn couldn’t understand .
The little acorn was no longer a little acorn.
And eventually, after much time had passed, the little acorn became a mighty oak tree with lots and lots of little acorns of its own and some of those little tiny acorns grew up and became oak trees.
Hmmm, we are sorta’ like little acorns, don’t you think?
Charles Towne is first and foremost a Christian. An octogenarian, author, journalist, wildlife photographer, naturalist, caregiver, and survivor, his life has been and continues to be, a never-ending adventure filled with possibilities never imagined. He has adopted the philosophy that to Live fully, laugh uproariously, love passionately, and learn like there is no tomorrow, is a formula for a long and joy-filled life.