SOUL MAIL Sunday: Stand Tall in the Face of All that Comes to You
Well, it’s another SOUL MAIL Sunday this 27th day of September, 2026. I’m still contemplating about trees.
It was so fun seeing the children at my Sunday Art Table two weeks ago creating their owls and then venturing to learn about hugging and climbing into the Magnolia tree. Like them, I was a tree climber once too. Getting to the top of a tree is one of those great exhilarating milestones of childhood! For me it was a step of courage and faith too. Trees have been an important part of my life ever since.
Art Table under the Magnolia tree at the Fall Creek Farmers Market
The tree in the SOUL MAIL Come See My Window from two weeks ago, reminded us that even when we get knocked down, we can continue to rise in life because we are part of a much greater loving story. But there was another SOUL MAIL Stand Tall in the Face of All that Comes to You, that was speaking to me at the same time. We are going to explore it today. But first of all, I would like to share another tree story from my life.
Memories to Climb By Watercolor by Susan Sholle-Martin
My milestone tree climb occurred in one of the trees that lined the baseball field next to my childhood home. Shortly after my graduation from college, I created this watercolor painting of those trees. Almost 20 years later, I took it out of my portfolio, added this poetic writing below, and entitled it Memories to Climb By. I exhibited it in several places while living in Pittsburgh, PA. It received a Juror’s Choice in the People’s Art Show – H.O. Lehman Tree Award at the PPG Wintergarden. It was sold to a woman in the town where I lived. And now, 50 years later I am preparing to return back to my undergraduate college for our 50th reunion.
Memories to Climb By
The trees of my childhood created
a fertile place for imagination and exploration.
They hold images of safely swaying above the world
and being embraced by nature.
Steadfastly they stood,
a boundary for our neighborhood ballfield.
The challenge of the climb was always there.
Generously giving a gift of a new world view,
they never asked for anything in return.
One day someone decided we needed more shopping.
They bulldozed a path,
ignoring the aesthetics by leaving shale,
like a hugh scar.
A background of metal batting cages
and Taco Bell try to pierce the woods.
The world view now includes Super Kmart.
Somehow they endure. Time is on their side.
They gradually begin to camouflage the scar;
always giving me memories to climb by.
It feels like these trees are still talking to me and giving me memories to climb by. When I return to visit my mother, I see how they have completely taken over the ballfield and become a deep woods that does not allow any of the shopping stores to pierce through them. They have outlived the Super Kmart and are now the home of many deer and other wild animals.
They have an incredible global tree family, and they remind me that so do I.
The trees are still becoming, and so am I.
Recently my mother, who will be turning 100 years old, told me how much she misses gardening and having her hands in the earth because gardening is a part of who she is.
Perhaps the gardens and nature around her home are calling her.
She is deeply rooted in the home she designed and my father built. I, on the other hand, left my hometown and ventured out into the world.
Neither way is the “right” way. We each have our own calling, our own roots, and our own way of following them.
Perhaps that is part of what makes each of us unique.
Some trees are deeply rooted and difficult to take down. Some people are, too. And some trees, like the tall coconut palms, can bend with the wind and survive tremendous storms.
Others are more easily uprooted.
Our cabbage palm was one of those. During Hurricane Wilma in 2005, it was knocked down. But our landscapers propped it back up and supported it.
And then something beautiful happened.
That once-fallen palm became a place where orchids could grow. Orchids were tied around its trunk and continued to flourish there through many more storms. One of those orchids is still with me today.
Orchid once attached to our cabbage palm in Florida
That cabbage palm gave me another lesson:
Sometimes getting back up requires help.
And sometimes what has been knocked down can become a place where something else is nurtured.
Perhaps that is what we do for one another, too.
I am now living in a community at a great distance from my hometown. After my husband died, I chose to move closer to our children and to create a new community of my own.
Perhaps that is another way we become who we are. We leave some things behind, carry other things with us, and put down new roots.
Over the past few weeks, I have been working with my neighborhood community to help us come together around the upcoming midterm election. We are learning about our voting rights, seeking reliable information, and finding ways to walk together to the polls.
As I have been doing this, I find myself wondering about the roots of the values that have shaped our country. What happens when we lose sight of freedom, equality, justice, wisdom, or compassion for one another? How do we remain connected to our larger human family when so many people are struggling to make ends meet? These realities make me ask not only what kind of community I want to live in, but what kind of community I want to help create.
Perhaps this is what the trees have been teaching me all along.
Stand tall—but don't confuse standing tall with standing alone.
Be rooted, but remain capable of bending.
Allow yourself to be supported when the storm knocks you down.
Keep growing.
Keep becoming.
Today’s SOUL MAIL Stand Tall in the Face of All that Comes to You, seems to be speaking to me about the present. You may view the SOUL MAIL image and read or listen to the poetic message below.
Last week I was asking:
Who am I becoming?
What am I choosing to carry forward?
Why am I becoming?
Now another question is beginning to emerge:
Have we forgotten why we are becoming?
And perhaps, along with it:
How do we find our balance between the light and the dark?
I have a feeling another SOUL MAIL is already beginning to answer.
