Dance of the Cottonwoods

The cottonwood is the state tree of Kansas. It must be a righteous tree, for as the Psalmist declared it is planted along the streams of water. It prospers and its leaves do not wither. (Ps. 1) Certainly cottonwoods love easy access to water and are found along the banks of ditches, streams, rivers, lakes and ponds. Their seed in a wispy white fluff that floats on the air. It sometimes looks like falling snow.
On my walk I pass several cottonwood trees. What I love about them is the way the leaves dance in the breeze. Leaves on other trees just seem to lean. The leaves on the cottonwood shiver and jitter in the wind. With the dance of the cottonwood leaves, sunlight frolics with sparkling reflection.
There are people like that. My ten-year-old daughter, Emily, is just such a person. When she was four-years-old she said to me, "Dad, I love my life." And Emily's life is a love of dance - ballet, tap, modern, Irish, and African. Seldom will you watch Emily dance and not see her smile. I remember the first year she danced in Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. There were several performances, not to mention countless rehearsals that her mom drove her to. After the last performance her mother said, "Are you glad that is over?" Emily looked at her as if dear old mom had absolutely lost her mind.
When Emily and her best friend, Katie, get together it is a forest of cottonwood trees glittering and flickering as if they were the true source of energy in the cosmos. They sing, dance, ride horses, swim, and watch television in a swirl of motion and endless giggling chatter. It takes my breath away.
Like the cottonwood trees on my country road these two little girls make me smile. I think cottonwood trees and such children as these are fairies that God sends to make me walk a little lighter, grin, and if no one is watching, dance a step or two myself.
The Feast of St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, 2009