Family of Coconut Trees

I sit in quiet contemplation
in the garden of God’s creation,
held in awe
by a family of coconut trees.

Within this family, there are many members,
different in size,
in height,
in age,
in colour.

Some stand tall and slender,
others shorter, weathered by time.
Some are heavy with fruit,
pregnant with coconuts,
while others stand empty, waiting.

Some cradle tender, young coconuts,
others hold the weight of the old.
Some lean gently toward the earth,
others stretch upright toward the sky.
Some wear fresh green leaves,
others golden, aged with grace.

And yet,
not one competes with the other.

They simply stand,
together.

Rooted in the same soil,
reaching toward the same heavens,
sharing light, wind, and rain.

They know how to coexist,
not to compete.

And I wonder!

Why is it that we,
created in the image of God,
struggle to live what they embody so naturally?

We compete.
We suppress.
We measure ourselves against one another.

We falter in sisterhood and brotherhood.
We resist the call to be a global family.
We long to stand taller than all the rest.

Yet in standing alone,
joy slips through our fingers.

For our deepest vocation
is not to rise above,
but to belong.

To be a family.

To befriend difference.
To discover meaning in togetherness.

To walk together.
To thrive together.
To live,
together.