The little Prairie Fire Crabapple tree had just a few leaves on it
when planted at the end of last Winter.
But with Spring nipping at Winter's heels,
the little tree began to speak of the glory of its Maker
as it suddenly burst forth in a riot of pink.
Its wild display of hot pink blooms brought me great delight.
A late snow and boisterous wind tore away many of its delicate petals.
But it persevered.
Soon, the tree was a spray of maroon
and green leaves as Summer drew nigh.
Little Crabapples grew forth from the branches and spent blooms,
speaking of what the Creator had in store.
It soaked up the Summer sun and completely
filled out in green as the apples grew little by little.
Each one turning from purple to red.
With Autumn now in full swing and the days turning cold,
I see golden leaves dotting the swaying branches in the chilly breezes.
I am told that all the leaves will turn gold.
I think the birds must be getting ready for a feast of tasty little apples.
But I am already feasting my eyes on the glory
of one little tree following God's design-
just as it ought.
Let your speech be always with grace,
seasoned with salt, that you may know
how you ought to answer every man.