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40 years ago, I spent my summers in a small town in Vermont with my dear teacher, Mrs. Cole. She was 65 years old and took on the responsibilities of an 8-year-old rascal. I visited this past fall to share my childhood memories with my husband. Every morning, I would walk the lakeshore and study the different trees and seek which trees offered balance and symmetry, the same goals I search for within myself. In certain ways, I was searching for answers to my childhood. I was seeking to understand these early years, although joyful, why were they void of parents?
There are chapters in everyone's book in which we all try to understand from an adult perspective on our childhood visions. I found comfort in this grouping of trees. They were moody and chilly yet they still offered a promise of color and vibrancy. They were balanced and created a sense of calm. They are the symbol of my yearning to blossom from the dark clouds that sometimes surrounded me.