Willow

January 18, 2024 | Third Thursday Thoughts
Dawn LaRochelle, Executive Director

So, we’re 18 days into January, and I’m officially a New Year’s Resolution failure. My ambitious-but-achievable goals turned out to be high on the ambitious end, but the achievable end… not so much. Wake up every morning in time to see the sunrise? This Night Owl has come to the conclusion that sunrises are highly overrated. More water and less coffee? My sides, my sides! No more scrolling after 9:00 PM? Say whaaaat?!  Refrain from voicing my opinion when I know I am not going to change anyone’s mind? I leave you to imagine how well THAT one worked out for me! Fortunately, however, I have one last trick up my sleeve before giving up the ghost entirely: there are still 348 days left in 2024 for me to write the first chapter of my book.

I’ve always been someone who “thinks with my pen” (or, in more recent decades, my keyboard). I feel great affinity with George Orwell, who begins his essay “Why I Write” by reflecting:

From a very early age, perhaps the age of five or six, I knew that when I grew up I should be a writer. Between the ages of about seventeen and twenty-four I tried to abandon this idea, but I did so with the consciousness that I was outraging my true nature and that sooner or later I should have to settle down and write books.

There are many books in me, from historical novels to creative nonfiction to memoir, but to date, my sole claim to book-writing fame is the handwritten (in a spiral notebook) and illustrated (with Crayola crayons) The Willow Tree That Could. I was in second grade when I authored it, and like all good writers, I wrote about what I knew. And what I knew was, in this instance, the story of the ginormous weeping willow tree on our front lawn. My mom had always wanted a weeping willow tree of her own, and my dad planted one as a surprise for her on their fifth wedding anniversary. My oldest brother, Brad, was four years old at the time and decided to “help” with the gardening a few days later. As my parents told it, Brad came to them with a face full of sunshine, crowing, “Mommy, Daddy, look – I pulled out a weed!” The “weed,” naturally, was the willow sapling.

Mom promptly burst into tears, much to Brad’s bewilderment, but Dad didn’t skip a beat. Willows, he reminded Mom, are survivors. Oaks might fall when the wind gets strong, but willows defy even the fiercest of storms with their bendable, flexible branches and extensive, supportive root systems… and it would survive a four-year-old’s overzealous “weeding,” too. Dad replanted the willow sapling, and as he predicted, the willow survived and thrived, later becoming the subject of my second-grade masterpiece. I made a jacket cover for The Willow Tree That Could out of tin foil and presented it to my mom for Mother’s Day. I found the book on Mom’s bedside table after her passing many years later, its pages worn from turning.

Trees remain profoundly entwined with my psyche to this day. The first piece of artwork my husband, Nick, and I purchased together was a copper weeping willow that now has pride of place in the entry to our home, a tangible tribute to my parents. When house hunting, before I scope out the kitchen or the bathrooms or the closets, I check out the trees. Our current home was selected in good part for the magnificent lilac bush tree that perfumes the backyard with its heady aroma each spring. My hikes and runs take me deep into the woods, where I’m buoyed by the joyful smallness of being lost in a maze of tree trunks and interwoven limbs. And next Wednesday at sundown (the 15^th of Shevat on the Jewish calendar) is the start of Tu B’Shevat, also known as the “New Year of the Trees.”

Originally established to calculate the age of trees for tithing (think divine income tax in ancient times), Tu B’Shevat is more modernly a celebration of renewal, a commemoration that connects us to nature and to Eretz Yisrael. Some celebrate with a special seder, modeled after the Passover seder, while others plant trees and raise awareness about environmental issues. And the 15^th of Shevat is the midpoint between winter and spring, a time when even as we’re digging out from under the latest snowstorm here in Maine, the sap of the trees is rising – a reminder that life is insuppressible even in our darkest and coldest hours.

Tu B’Shevat has special significance at the Maine Jewish Museum, where the century-old synagogue building that houses us is called Etz Chaim, “Tree of Life.” Accordingly, we are marking the holiday with a special program, Tree of Life: Book Launch Read-Aloud & Activity . This family-friendly event features celebrated local author Elisa Boxer – who I recently learned, to my surprise and delight, is part of my family tree – reading and signing her newest children’s book, Tree of Life: How a Holocaust Sapling Inspired the World. Based on the true story of children in a World War II prison camp who secretly planted a sapling that is still alive today, the book has been touted by Kirkus Review as “a gentle, accessible take on resilience.” A limited number of books will be available for purchase and autographing, and you can also reserve copies ahead of time and have them waiting for you when you arrive. All books purchased will include an 8X10 custom art print from the scene in the book where the children first see the sapling that was smuggled into the prison camp for them to plant. My cuzzy Elisa will also lead a hands-on workshop at the event for children to paint a pot and plant their own seeds of hope.

It is traditional at a Tu B’Shevat seder to pass around a tzedakah (charity) box to commemorate the new period for taking tithes, a portion of which was always given to the less fortunate. MJM’s Annual Appeal is still going strong, and I would be so very grateful if you would consider making the Museum part of your Tu B’Shevat giving plan. In this painfully divisive moment, your generosity helps us fulfill our mission of fostering appreciation and understanding among people of all backgrounds through art exhibitions, historical displays, and diverse programming. We make it easy-peasy for you: donating is as simple as a one-second click! And because we believe that giving should be fun, for the second year in a row, we’re bringing back Chug Sameach: Trivia at the Museum! This year, we’re offering two ways to play. In the afternoon, we’ll kick off the festivities with Family Trivia for ages 6+, complete with a popcorn machine and candy apples (health-conscious parents, we’ve got ya covered with clementines, pretzels, and gluten-free trail mix). In the evening, we’ll be hosting two rounds of trivia for adults only with a delectable spread from Nura and craft beer from Mast Landing between rounds. Adding to the excitement are out-of-this-world prizes (including tickets to the Children’s Museum & Theatre of Maine in the Family session and a gift certificate to David’s Restaurant in the Adult session), as well as a 50/50 raffle. Come show off your mad trivia skills on your own or in teams of up to 6 players while supporting our Annual Appeal. Win-win!

Even as we wait impatiently for the first leaves to appear on the trees, we are continuing to branch off at MJM. Most recently, we welcomed Rebecca Moudachirou to the Museum as our new Program Coordinator. Rebecca has deep connectivity to Maine (her great-grandfather is Maine Jewish Hall of Fame inductee George Lewis) and deep experience with program development and event planning, including as an invaluable member of the steering committee for MJM’s 2023 Fashion, Food, and Fun(d)raiser. We are so excited to have Rebecca on board and can’t wait to see her take the Program Coordinator position and run with it!

Circling back to that New Year’s Resolution thing and best-laid plans: whether you’re basking in the zen of an early morning sunrise or hitting the snooze button a zillion times, whether you’re hydrating with H₂O or slugging that fourth cup of Joe before noon, whether you’re reading poetry or checking your social feed before you drift off to sleep, whether you’re prudently holding your tongue or throwing caution to the wind and letting everyone know what you REALLY think, don’t lose heart: Tu B’Shevat gives us another opportunity to turn over a new leaf after the secular New Year and before we get to Rosh Hashanah. And no matter where we are with our Resolutions, we can all strive to learn from the wisdom of trees by staying grounded in these challenging times, standing tall and proud in our authentic identities, having the courage to go out on a limb when justice calls, and – like the willow – bending before we break and continuing to grow. There’s a book in there somewhere, and I have 348 days left to write the first chapter.

Happy New Year and Chag Sameach to those who celebrate.

Warmly,

Dawn