The church gave it to us shortly after he died. Over the winter, we weren't sure if it was going to survive; its branches were dried out and brittle and it didn't seem to have much life left. Every now and then, I'd nip at it's base to check for color, and was heartened to see the light green tissue inside.
Now, months later, it has brand new shoots and pretty new red leaves. And today, it reminded that even the most tired looking things can still be teeming with life on the inside.
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