“[T]he planting of trees demonstrates a clear intention to have a future and a definite disinterest in war.” (Excerpted from the short story “China.”)
Alice Walker also wrote, I read once on a book jacket, “Having been so dissatisfied with my own and the world’s shortcomings, I would have thought myself a suicide by 30.”
I’m paraphrasing her second sentiment. Typically, when a quote strikes me, I can Google it as it comes to mind later, to repeat ver batim, but I’ve never been able to find that one. It bothers me, because I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so understood – and okay, as a result of shared troubles – as I did in that moment.
When I finish the stack of books I collected at random from the community exchange I once worked in, I’m going to devote my time to her bibiography. Isn’t is remarkable that people from such disparate backgrounds, generations, and experience, can be so similarly simply human?
(I’m obsessed with leaves and trees. I’ve hand-sewn hundreds of leaves over the years and attached them to costumes of every type. I even stitched more than a hundred to a sheet to make a tent cover into a treehouse, to which I attached a dozen or more birds and butterflies. Eventually, it got too heavy for the tent to stand under its weight, and now works as a great camping blanket. It’s so beautiful. It always makes me happy.)