It’s early and quiet. I’m sitting alone on a porch overlooking the Edisto River slowly making its way into the welcoming reaches of the Atlantic Ocean. The grandchildren who once snuggled next to me to watch the pelicans greet the day are asleep upstairs, not to stir for several more hours. On this overcast morning, my thoughts are fueled by a cedar tree in the foreground; though a mere twig compared to the magnificent specimens on the bluff adjacent to our Historic Church, it serves to stir memories of the weather-beaten ancient cedar which sheltered many joy-filled hours over seventy years ago. Overhanging the Intercoastal Waterway on the lee side of Sullivan’s Island and within sight of our home, its limbs invited climbing and, once perched in their embrace, daydreaming – dreams long-since forgotten.
By God’s grace and in His time, the little cedar before me and the grandchildren behind me will mature to fuel the dreams of future generations…that’s as it should be.
