Pathway of Trees ~ 1000 Words

If she keeps posting pictures that give me inspiration, then I’ll keep writing! I hope you’ll keep reading as well. 😀 {word count: 887. It’s short of 1000, but I think it works!}

1000 word writing prompt megan eccles green passage

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After her Papa died, she would go to the tree lined path, that they’d walked along together for years. Among it’s sunlit shadows and twinkling lights of dark and light, he’d teach her about a rich faith, now long banned in this country. It was the only safe place they could speak of Yahweh, Christ, crucifixion and salvation. Too many good people were murdered in their homes for the mere mention of these names, and so…in those thick trees, grown together to create a cocoon of green, was a school room of faith.

Many times, they would come across another walking along it’s path, and their conversations would turn to the mundane and things of the farm. Only long after the other had passed, would her father signal that it was safe once more to continue her education of His words.

“Hannah, you see those trees there, grown together?” He’d point to them, with his dirt lined nails and calloused hands.

“Yes Papa.” Her child’s voice would softly say.

“Those three trees, they are a good representation of the Holy Trinity. Each individual, but inseparable. If you cut one now, the others would wither and die. But see how strong they are now, how the trunks weaver together and form a new tree?”

“I see them Papa. Why did they grow that way?”

“Perhaps because they were drawn together, my child. But let’s not forget that our Holy Lord, Christ and His Spirit are joined thus so, and each serves a purpose so beautiful. This one, here…the larger of the three. This one is like the Lord God. He’s the Father, the Holy of Holys. And see this one here, the one marked by scars? This one is like Christ, who bears the marks of bearing our sins. And this last one the one that grows in-between, and all around? This is the Holy Spirit, reminding us of how His Spirit is everywhere and in us as well. Always with us. Always remember these trees Hannah, and should someone cut them down, never let the sight of them fade from your eyes. These will help you understand the Holy Trinity.”


Years later, as I stand in the place those trees once stood, I noticed a new trio of trees, close together, and growing towards each other. I smiled softly, and remembered for him, the story of the Holy Trinity.  Now I walk this path, and the country is a little better towards those who believe in Christ, though it’s still new to us all, who’ve had to hide it for so long. My own children only 7, and 10, have grown up with the same stories I have, told to them in part by their Granddad, and in part by myself. They will one day tell of it to their children, Lord willing.

Softly I touch the bigger of the three, and say a pray for the safety of all who believe. I keep walking. I know just where I’m headed this early foggy morning.


The sound of rustling and morning birds fills the air, as I arrive at the little seat, made by the bent trunk of a long dead tree. Here is where many more lessons of Christ, Abraham, Noah, Hannah, Esther and more, had been told to me. My favorite was always Hannah and Esther. The way my Papa’s face would light up, in the telling. The love he had for the people he spoke of and the God he served, it shone on his face and in his voice. I always feared he would be caught, because it was so bright. But the Lord protected him like a dear dear treasure.

Many times, the night would be interrupted with the sounds of loud banging, and things crashing to the floor. My Papa had told me to keep to my room, and hide when I heard those things. Only later, when I was older, did I understand why he’s told me this. There’d been stories of soldiers taking the children of those accused of speaking against the ‘faith’ of the state, and putting them into work camps. But those rumors told him they were in fact, death camps. The children worked to death, with useless activities and no food or water. Most did not last long, already undernourished before arriving.

Only then, as I’d gotten older, did I understand also, why he’d done his best to keep me as invisible as possible. Sighing, she smiled. As great a faith as my Papa had, he still had trouble completely trusting the Lord with me. To the day he gave his last breath, he hadn’t learned to let go of me.


As she walked back out of the tree path, she slowly made her way to the family home. Pausing to look back at the entrance to the trees, she reflected once more. Marveling at the fact that God had placed this path here, to be used by her Papa, her and now her children. To learn of Him, through His glorious, quiet nature. The awe and safety, the love and justice. It was all there, if one looked close enough.



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