Jamin Bradley

“…all good allegory exists not to hide, but to reveal; to make the inner world more palpable by giving it an (imagined) concrete embodiment.”

-C.S. Lewis

A beam of light pierced through a small hole in the tent onto the farmer’s tired face and warmed his cheek. It was one of those beams you almost thought you could reach out and grab on account of all the dust it was illuminating. The farmer rubbed his sleepy eyes and then stretched out his arms and legs, cracking his back in the process. And then, sitting up on his bed, he closed his eyes and sat in silence.

For thirty minutes he spoke not a word—he simply sat there. You might have been convinced that he had somehow fallen back asleep in that position, but that was not the case. It was clear from the way his eyes shifted around under his eyelids and from the occasional deep breaths he took that he was very much awake. When half an hour had passed, he opened his mouth and said, “Alright Father. I will offer him your water today.” And with that, he rose to his feet and walked across the dirt floor to the corner of the tent to grab his wooden bucket.

The sky at Lovetree Farms was a beautiful bright blue that spring day. The farmer smiled as he treaded across the long orchard towards the well on the other side, the tree branches waving in the breeze around him. He whistled along with the chorus of birds as a bluejay landed on his shoulder to join him.

“How are you this morning, little friend?” greeted the farmer.

The bird chirped back in what sounded like an honest attempt at a response. 

“Really? You’re going to teach your son to fly today?” asked the farmer. “Dear bluejay, you and your kind never cease to amaze me. Here we are, just getting over a long winter and none of your kind have come to me worried about finding food. Instead, you share with me the blessings in your life and in doing so, bless me also! Your spirits are always up even when you have reason to complain!”

If birds can blush, that most certainly was what the bluejay did. The farmer pulled a sunflower seed out of his pocket and placed it on his shoulder. “Don’t change my friend. There is never any need to be anxious about tomorrow. After all, tomorrow is anxious enough for itself! There’s enough trouble to deal with today, yes?”

The bird quickly ate the sunflower seed and happily chirped something in the farmer’s ear. A smile cracked on the farmer’s face and he began to laugh one of his deep belly-laughs.

“Come, my avian friends!” he shouted into the orchard. “Come be rewarded for your trust in my Father’s provision!” The farmer reached into his pockets and pulled out fistfuls of sunflower seeds, throwing them into the air with a big smile on his face. Birds flew from the branches all around, flocking to the farmer’s feet. The seeds were gone in a matter of seconds. 

“You’re all hungry I see!” shouted the farmer. “Don’t worry, my Father is a man of feasting!” He reached back into his pockets and pulled out what seemed like an impossible amount of seeds, throwing them all across the ground. “Eat up friends! Eat up!” he smiled. “The last thing I need is to weed sunflowers out of the orchard all summer!”

The farmer carefully stepped around hundreds of birds, as seeds continued to fall out of his pockets. The birds were so satisfied with their meal that they didn’t even see him leave—well, all that is but for one bird. The same bluejay that had landed on his shoulder moments ago was sitting on a branch right in front of the farmer with two other bluejays.

“Oh, hello again,” smiled the farmer.

The bird’s demeanor changed as he chirped something that only the farmer seemed to understand.

“My dear friend,” started the farmer, “why didn’t you tell me earlier that your son’s left wing was too small? Surely you didn’t want him to try to fly like this?”

The baby bluejay’s eyes looked down in shame. He was a bird after all—he was meant for the skies! But even if he could fly, his gimpy wing would never guarantee any kind of balanced flight pattern.

“Do you wish to be healed?” asked the farmer.

The bird whistled an answer quietly, his body posture resembling a yes.

“Then get up, take to the skies and fly,” said the farmer with a warm smirk spreading out across his face.

At once, the baby bird leaped off the branch, his parents chirping in fear—but the bird never touched the ground! The farmer turned around to see him gliding across the orchard sky, landing on branches and taking off as immediately as he had landed on them. The farmer laughed another one of his belly laughs as the bird chirped loudly across the orchard, gaining the attention of all the other birds who were still eating. Never had their been such noise amidst the birds at Lovetree Farms before. The mother and father bird jumped onto the farmer’s shoulders and affectionately rubbed their faces against his neck in thanks.

“Oh there, there,” gushed the farmer as the birds flew off into the distance to catch up with their son. They were so happy that they forgot to even grab any sunflower seeds in the process.

The Well

In due time, the farmer arrived at the well that stood right in front of an old rugged tree and the wagon he had left there the night before. He tied his big wooden bucket onto the rope and lowered it down into the deep depths of the well. After it was clear that the bucket was full, he pulled up his sleeves and put all of his might into turning the crank to bring it back up.

The farmer then cupped his hands, filled them with water from the bucket, and took a generous sip. “Mm…” he sighed. “There truly is no water like that of Lovetree Farms. Why some feel the urge to fill themselves with other liquids, I’ll never know. I myself will continue to be filled with this.” He then turned his gaze towards his apple orchard which was several acres away. “Perhaps today, he would like a drink of this as well.”

To his left, the farmer saw two oxen trotting up to him. “Hello old friends!” the farmer exclaimed as he reached out to pet their heads. “Have you come to help me with my work again?”

Both oxen put a foot forward and bowed their heads as if to say yes.

The farmer smiled. “You know, you guys are lot gentler and humbler than your horns lead on,” he said.

The oxen both bit a rope connected to the wagon, backed themselves up in front of it, and waited to be attached.

“Well you’re ready to go then, aren’t you?” asked the farmer. Their tails wagged so hard in response that you might have feared they’d break off.

The farmer laughed and then grunted loudly as he grabbed the rope handle of the wooden bucket and carried it from the well wall to the back of the wagon. He then walked up to the oxen and attached the proper ropes and the yoke.

Once everything was set, he leaned in close to the two and whispered, “I too, am gentle and humble. You work hard friends. Today this yoke will be easy on you and bring you rest. I know you expect the work we do to be burdensome, but as you do it with me, it will become light and easy.” After he had said these words, he knocked on the yoke three times and the old grainy wood was suddenly covered with flowers. The oxen made a joyous noise and calmly began to tread the vast farmlands in sync with the farmer’s steering.

The Apple Tree

“Alright friends,” said the farmer. “You can take a break now. We’re here.” The farmer removed the yoke from the oxen and the beasts laid down and fell asleep. 

The wagon had stopped in front of one of the apple trees in the orchard. It looked a little livelier than many of the other trees surrounding it, which was surprising because it wasn’t all that old. The farmer had only planted it 5 years ago, yet its branches stuck out further than the surrounding trees and it was budding earlier too.

He put his hand on the tree’s trunk. “Hello friend,” he said. “It has been wonderful to watch you grow these past years. It was my father who knit you together when you still were just a seed and he had you planted for such a time as this.”

The farmer continued. “While you have lived these years, you have not seen me, for you are just an apple tree. What ability do you have to be conscious of things outside of soil, sun and water? But as I have watched you grow, it has become clear that while you may not always see me, you have picked up on my presence. For I have come to talk to you often and have directed your way towards the health you currently have.”

The farmer walked back to his wagon and grunted once more as he lifted the bucket of water off the back. He placed it in front of the tree and leaned over to catch his breath.

“Dearest apple tree. I have labored hard over you these past 5 years, though you have not entirely known it. I have built fences around you to protect you. During a drought, I watered you. When you were younger and the fire blight overtook your branches, I worked hard to bring you back to health. When you grew too many apples to support your small branches, I relieved you of them. And when the weight of your trunk began to tilt you, I straightened you back into the ground.”

He continued. “I am all about you my friend, for my father finds you to be of supreme worth and wishes you—like all of your brothers and sisters here—to be taken care of. I do only what I see my father doing, and today he is reaching out to you, inviting you to become a new creation. Everything you know of being an apple tree will pass away, and new life will come upon you if you accept my invitation.”

The farmer closed his eyes and stood there silently. The tension was palpable. You could sense that there really was some kind of magic in the air—that all it would take was some kind of word or action to activate it.

The farmer opened his eyes and whispered, “I have talked with my father and have already paid the price necessary for you to access this new life. I know you cannot talk, but this decision goes deeper than words. If you decide to make it, I will know. I will give you this new life and you will follow me so that I can teach you more fully what that life looks like. Then you, too, will be able to teach others.” The farmer paused. “Do you accept the invitation?”

The magic was so overbearing now that the whole farm must have felt it, for the entire land was silent. The farmer once again closed his eyes and listened to the nothingness intently. After a period of silence it became clear that something had happened, because a huge smile stretched out across the farmer’s face.

“Then receive it!” he proclaimed. He reached his hand into the bucket of water and a scar opened up, diluting it with blood. As he pulled his hand back out the scar miraculously shut. In that moment, two clouds appeared in the bright blue sky and crashed into each other, causing incredibly loud thunder (or was it a voice?) to echo across the farm. There was a torrential downpour within seconds, along with a mighty rushing wind. The farmer grabbed the rope handles of the bucket and tilted it over, covering the ground all around the tree. He stood there and soaked it all in as though it was pure ecstasy.

The tree gasped loudly. He leaned forward, his branches stretching across the ground like fingers, scraping the grass right out of the soil. He pulled his roots out of their deep reaches into the ground and fell over. He laid there, convulsing as all of his branches and roots began to wrap around each other to create arms and legs. The change was violent and tense and the tree cried out as it continued. But then as swiftly as it had started, it was done. The rain stopped instantly, just as though someone had turned a hose off and and the tree stopped contorting. He was left lying on the ground in the fetal position with a new tree-like body.

The farmer slowly approached the new species of tree with that warm smile still on his face. “My father has washed you clean with rain from Heaven and I have poured out living water on you so that you will never thirst again!”

“Living water?” the tree groaned through the new mouth on his trunk. He was still adjusting to the change. “I think I can feel it inside of me.”

“It?” questioned the farmer. “Certainly you can feel it. It will always be there with you now. It is what makes you the new creation you are. But like all living things, it has a name. In fact, he has carried many names throughout history, but you may call him, ‘the Fruitful One.’”

“The Fruitful One,” the tree said, soaking it all in. “My lips tingle when I say his name out loud.”

“Indeed,” replied the farmer. “He is as sacred as they come. All sins will be forgiven in this world except the blasphemies against him. If you’re lucky, that tingle will always remain on your lips.”

The farmer drew closer to the tree and placed his hand on his shoulder. The tree let go of his knees and straightened out from the fetal position. He laid on his back and looked up at the blue sky.

“It’s so beautiful,” said the tree.

“Isn’t it?” replied the farmer. “The Fruitful One made it all, you know. The sky, the stars, the earth, the waters, the creatures, the trees—all of it.” The farmer stared off into the distance for a moment to take it all in. “That being said, it’s really no shock that he would turn you into the new creation you are now. Creation is his speciality!”

He looked at the tree and smiled that big smile of his. The tree looked into the farmer’s loving eyes and attempted to smile back, but he was still new to the whole process. It was like watching a baby learn to smile. He kind of shaped his lips in a way that made you think he was maybe catching on, but then his face just fell back to an unenthused state.

The farmer laughed. “You may be old enough to bear fruit as an apple tree, but you’re just an infant Lovetree.”

“Lovetree?” asked the apple tree, still trying to force his facial muscles into a smile.

“Yes,” replied the farmer. “It’s what your new state is called. You’re not the first tree to drink the water I gave you today. There are many more that have already accepted my invitation. They are all Lovetrees like you, regardless if they are apple trees or pear trees or male or female.”

“And what do Lovetrees do?” asked the tree.

“Follow me mostly,” replied the farmer.

“Where?” asked the tree.

“That you know where I’m going is not the point,” he answered. “That you follow me regardless of where I’m going, is.”

“The creator—I mean—the Fruitful One will allow me to follow you that blindly?” asked the tree.

“My dear friend,” said the farmer as he patted the tall Lovetree’s elbow. “The living water that is the Fruitful One flows out of my very heart. You could not have received him if you had not received me. Nor would he have come to you if I hadn’t had asked him to. I will never lead you a direction that the Fruitful One wouldn’t. Our hearts are perfectly aligned.”

“This is all so much to take in,”said the apple tree as he attempted to stand up. “Ouch!” he yelled as he rose to his feet. “Everything really hurts!”

“That is normal for a new Lovetree,” said the farmer. “Becoming a new creation requires a lot of you. After all, an old version of you just died a few minutes ago. You should definitely be feeling it right now. And as you keep growing as a Lovetree, you’ll find there is plenty more of your old bark still attached that you’ll need to strip off.”

“Will that hurt too?” asked the tree.

“Death always hurts my friend,” answered the farmer. “But it is appropriate. And it often takes time—even a lifetime. But it’s worth it.”

“But I’m so used to being an apple tree. What if I revert back to acting like one again?” he asked.

The farmer looked sadly at the ground. “We will never give up on you if you do. We have called you into this new life for a reason and we will now and forevermore call you to it. But if you live like an apple tree, then an apple tree you will become.”

The air grew cold for a moment. Each of the farmer’s words seemed to carry a weight with it. The whole farmland could feel it.

The farmer pointed to a pear tree across the field. “That tree right there used to be a Lovetree. But one day, she bought into the Scarecrow’s lies and turned away from the life of the Fruitful One.”

A hot discomfort flooded the new Lovetree. “Can’t you do anything about it?” he asked.

“Friend, there has not been one day since she left that I have not visited her,” the farmer replied. “I am determined to eventually wear her down with love and kindness, but I cannot force her to love me back.”

The farmer sighed as he gazed longingly into the distance. After a moment, he shook his head as though to break free of a trance and turned back towards his new creation.

“We have yet to choose a name for you!” he said, quite excited to start trying some out. The tree raised his eyebrow, which was really just a piece of bark above his eye. “How about Ferdinand?” he asked.

The tree puckered his lips in a way that communicated he wasn’t too fond of the idea.

“No?” the farmer laughed. “I always thought that was a hilarious name! But perhaps you’d prefer something more serious. How about Pomegranate instead?”

The tree wasn’t sure how to respond to that one. It was a joke, right?

“Oh come on now!” laughed the farmer. “I’m kidding! I’m not going to have an apple tree walking around named Pomegranate! Besides, we’ve had a name chosen for you since before you were planted.”

“Oh?” said the tree. “What is it?”

“Millo,” he answered.

“Millo,” the tree whispered to himself. “Yeah. Yeah, I like that.”

“Good! Now let’s stretch those new legs of yours and walk towards your new home where the other Lovetrees are staying.” 

The Walk

The farmer led the way while singing a catchy tune with a hop in his step. Lovetree Farms was quite big and much of the day had been spent traversing it and raising Millo to life. The sun was now beginning to go down, setting the sky ablaze with gorgeous shades of orange, pink and blue. Millo opened his new eyes as wide as he could to take it all in. After awhile, he opened his mouth to speak to the farmer.

“Excuse me for interrupting your song Mr. Farmer, but what does Millo mean?”

“Fullness!” exclaimed the farmer. “And so you will live up to your new name!”

“Fullness?” asked the tree. “Fullness of what?”

“Fullness of questions I suppose!” laughed the farmer. “I’m kidding, of course. Our hope for you is that you’ll grow the fullness of fruit.”

“Like apples?” asked Millo.

“Sort of,” answered the farmer. “Though in this case it is your destiny to grow the fullness of the Fruitful One’s fruit.”

“But I’m an apple tree,” replied Millo. “Is his fruit different than apples?”

“It is!” said the farmer. “But who better to illustrate fruit than a fruit tree?”

“But why me?” asked the tree as he stepped cautiously over a squirrel.

“Well, technically it is the destiny of all Lovetrees to produce the fruit of the Fruitful One. But as we’ve watched you grow, we’ve had this special hope that you might grow such fruit more fully than the rest of the Lovetrees,” explained the farmer. “See, the others really need a boost. Apathy and complacency is a strong deterrent and many of the other Lovetrees are full of it. But if we can find just one that will begin to grow the Fruitful One’s fruit more passionately and adamantly, the others will see it and desire it. We believe you have that passion Millo.”

“I do enjoy growing fruit,” said Millo.

“Yes, I know. In fact, we’ve never seen an apple tree your age enjoy it so much!” said the farmer. “The eyes of the father run to and fro throughout the whole farm to give strong support to those whose heart is blameless toward him. As far as being a good apple tree is concerned, you were blameless. Are you capable of being just as good of a Lovetree?”

“I hope so,” replied Millo. “What all do I have to grow?”

“Oh, just a few things,” started the farmer. “Love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.

“I’m expected to grow all of that?” exclaimed Millo.

“No, no!” said the farmer, shaking his head with a grin. “I’m expected to grow all of that! I am the farmer after all. Of course, you have to let me grow this fruit in you or I won’t be able to.”

The farmer looked up at Millo to find him looking overwhelmed. “I know, it sounds like a lot right now, but don’t worry, we’ll take it one step at a time. Maturity and fullness always takes time.”

Lovetree Village

Millo had just reached the gates of Lovetree Village as the sun began to fade behind the horizon. The farmer walked into the courtyard and yelled, “Hello friends!” Stomping and rumbling came from all directions as a large group of Lovetrees showed up to greet him. Millo stayed behind the gate, too shy and overwhelmed to come in just yet.

“I’d like to introduce you to a new Lovetree tonight!” proclaimed the farmer. “His name is Millo! Now I’m sure most of you remember what your first night was like in Lovetree Village—you were all still adapting to your new bodies and existence in general. Please make sure Millo is comfortable and welcomed with the same warmth that you desired on your first night. Love him as you love yourself. Love him as I do.”

The farmer turned around to leave, but then caught a glimpse of fear in Millo’s face. With compassion, he grabbed Millo’s hand. “Remember, the Fruitful One flows out of me and into you. If you need to reach me, I am always with you. Always.” Then the farmer turned back towards the courtyard. “Hey Ferdinand!”

“Yes, boss?” replied a low voice from a large tree.

“You’re specifically in charge of making sure Millo is taken care of at every step!” he said.

“You got it boss,” Ferdinand said as he gave a thumbs up.

“I’ll see you soon buddy,” the farmer told Millo as Ferdinand approached him.

“So your name is Ferdinand, huh?” said Millo.

“Yeah. Hilarious, right?” he answered. “I think the boss meant it as a joke, but I just went with it. Who am I to deny the first name he offers me?”

“No, no,” said Millo with a smirk. “I’m sure he takes it seriously.” Millo turned around to see the farmer slapping his leg and laughing. He then looked back at Millo and waved as he continued to walk off into the distance.

Millo soon got over his anxiety and learned to laugh, eat and play with the others. After a long night of getting to know the Lovetree community, he went and found himself a cozy spot to lie down and stare at the stars. He had never seen anything like it before and the wonder of it all consumed him. The same Fruitful One who had hung those stars in place now lived inside of him. And the evolution he had gone through that day from a simple apple tree to a walking, conscious Lovetree wasn’t the end of the story for him. There was more. There were fruits that the Fruitful One wanted to grow in him that he had yet to understand the importance of.

And perhaps, starting tomorrow, he would begin that new journey.