In Texas, where I live, autumn comes through about one time in seven. Occasionally we'll get a beautiful, bright fall where the trees turn all sorts of colors before gracefully scattering their leaves. Usually the trees turn brown and drop their leaves overnight in a lump. I want to tell you a story about what happened one of those years when none of the trees wanted to put on a show, except one of them—and that one was an evergreen.

It was a cedar, in fact, and it stood in a forest of all kinds: oaks, walnuts, pears, hackberries, maples, willows, and pecans. Now cedars, as you know, never lose their leaves. They stay green all year round. But this particular cedar loved nothing better than to see the colors of fall. All through the scorching heat of summer she dreamed of a day when the north wind would bring frosty air down from the Rockies. Then the sun would shine bright from a clear, blue sky onto a festival of yellows and ambers, oranges and auburns, vermilions and russets and reds. She would shake out the dust from her limbs and breathe in the sweet air and feast her eyes on the colors all around her.

This particular autumn began as they all do, with a sudden sweep of cool air followed by three days of storms. The little cedar felt refreshed and happy. She rubbed her leaves in anticipation. But after a week or two, she began to notice that the other trees were only turning brown.

She went to the oaks and said, "Great oaks, autumn has come, yet you haven't turned beautiful colors. Why are you only turning brown?"

"Ah, little cedar," the oaks answered, "we haven't had enough rain. We need water to turn lovely colors, but our roots are dry and our mouths are parched and all we can do is turn brown."

The little cedar felt very sad for the oaks. Then she went to the pecans and said, "Mighty pecans, autumn has come, yet you haven't turned beautiful colors. Why are you only turning brown?"

"My goodness, little cedar," the pecans answered, "it's hardly worth it, is it? I mean, we do all that work to make a little splash of color, then all our leaves fall off as soon as a puff of wind comes along. Why go to all the trouble?"

The little cedar felt rather angry at the pecans. Then she went to the maples and said, "Beautiful maples, autumn has come, yet you haven't turned beautiful colors. Why are you only turning brown?"

"Well, little cedar," the maples answered, and they smiled condescendingly, "it's not exactly fashionable anymore, I dare say. Bright colors are well out this year—haven't you heard? Browns are so much more understated, don't you think—so much more sophisticated. We wouldn't be caught dead in the bright oranges and reds we wore last year." And they droned on like this for some time.

The little cedar felt bewildered by the maples. As the sun set, she sensed a frosty bite in the air that told her winter would soon arrive. Then all the trees would lose their leaves, and she would have to wait a whole year for the chance to see them turn again. The little cedar looked up to the budding stars and said, "Please, please let me see lovely autumn leaves before winter comes." And she fell asleep with tears dripping down her branches.

She awoke the next morning to the sounds of gasps and whispers. She looked around. The sky was blue, the air was crisp, and the forest buzzed with excitement. Yet everywhere she looked, the little cedar saw only brown, dry trees, and she wondered what had captured everyone's attention. Then she realized that what they were all looking at…was her.

She looked down at her limbs and saw that her own leaves had changed from dark green to all the colors of autumn: yellows and ambers, oranges and auburns, vermilions and russets and reds.

She shook with joy. She was very beautiful, and she reveled in the breeze and the sunlight. The whole forest admired her—even the maples—and she gloried in her colors for the rest of the autumn.

Labels: faith