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Show THIN WREATH OF TRIUMPH Chapter XXIV Looking back to the lightning bolt that speared us once, I reflect on the symbolic message it might have carried. For background, a flashback. Early at Nada Father ordered many trees from Centerville nurseries near Salt Lake City, poplars and other hardy varieties that we hoped would provide shade and a windbreak. On their arrival we rushed to get them into the ground to reduce the sapping effects of sun and wind. All of us dug holes and dropped in fertilizer. Father came forth with armfuls of a device he had made, a type of triangular tube of wood, one to stand up in each hole. Later we were to pour water into each tube to get the moisture deep down to the roots instead of letting most of it evaporate uselessly. At that time we had no facilities on the northeast side of the railroad to irrigate and deep-soak the trees. We planned to lug a bucketful of water from the well to each tree frequently. We plugged each tube with a wad of burlap to reduce drying. Father had us pull the plug out of each tube, pour the bucketful down, then replace the "cork." Doing this for dozens of trees was a back-breaking job, of which I tired quickly- But Father persisted with that eagerness of his to throw himself whole-heartedly into any task that promised progress and beauty. As a matter of fact he was more engrossed in beauty than the mere utility, say, of a windbreak. |