Rooted

This stump stands in front of a nursing home in Sackville, New Brunswick. In looking at it, I am reminded of a family tree. I remember one family tree that my grandmother had drawn up. It showed the picture of a tree. From the main branch, gnereations ago, branches and twigs sprouted out showing the different generations. My grandmother was represented by a tiny twig at the edge of the tree. When I took classes in Buddhism though, my professor said that one school of Buddhists do it somewhat differently. The centre of the tree is the present generation. This trunk splits into two with the mother and father. Their branches split into two with the grandparents etc. But no matter how you do it, we are all connected. Whether we are the main trunk or a tiny twig, we are all part of one common tree.