The Sycamore Tree That Took Root In My Soul

The Sycamore Tree in front of my ‘House By The Sea’ came into full foliage over the last few weeks. I worried this Winter and last that the sycamore would not spring into leaf again, and was overjoyed to see that its seasonal growth, this year showing bark stripped branches left over from brutal winter windstorms, bypassed my worries.

Overseen from my front windows even without leaves during long frigid Nova Scotia winters, to me, the sycamore is a daily reminder of when Jesus called Zacchaeus down from the sycamore-fig tree, which he, a short man, had climbed to see our Lord and Savior as He was passing. 

When Jesus reached the spot, He looked up and said to him, "Zacchaeus, come down immediately. I must stay at your house today.”(Luke:19 5-6)

In our tossed-up, fraught with danger world, my sycamore tree took root into my soul as my Prayer Tree, a tree that keeps me hoping for better days to come.

The second anniversary of our arrival to the small Acadian fishing village in Nova Scotia when we escaped COVID-menaced Ontario passed on the recent May 24th weekend.

It’s been a long haul here, not just for we at Canada Free Press, but for many Canadians struggling to heat their homes and to come up with enough money for groceries in rampant Inflation.

This is my daily prayer from the house windows when overlooking the beautiful sycamore:

“Thank You, Eternal Father for your Creation. Thank You for knowing each and every one of us before placing each and every one of us into our Mothers’ wombs.

“Prayers for every one who needs them most in this very moment in real time, including all of those tossed up in the confusion of our times, leaning toward dejection, depression, fear, worry and anxiety. Bring them back to what matters most, Eternal Father, lives of ongoing fervent prayer, so that, in effect, they will be joining your beloved, only begotten Son whose eternal mission is bringing all souls to Heaven.”

I pray to my Guardian Angel, “God’s appointee in my life from birth to death…and perhaps even after, asking that “if it is God’s Will for my Guardian Angel to message Guardian Angels of all innocent little children to keep them as safe as possible in these horrific, anti-Baby, anti-Child, anti-Christian times”.

In my prayers, I invoke Brother St. Herman, who left us the magnificent ‘Salve Regina’, asking Him to help me find my way back to my very next Latin, Tridentine or Maronite Mass, God willing.

Brother St. Herman achieved all that he did for us on earth despite many physical setbacks, including painful, debilitating Spina Bifida, to which I long ago lost my only baby boy at three months of age.

I ask Brother St. Herman to keep my baby under wing and for him and my Baby Boy to pray for all sinners on earth, “including me, the baby’s mother”.

I end my in front of Sycamore prayers for Almighty God’s guidance, and discernment, promising to act as soon as I perceive them—my only way of ensuring that it is His Will and not my own being done.

It should go without saying that we are now entering the apex of the most dangerous time for humanity in the next coming six-seven months.

Things that make for tough going now will be getting even tougher. with each passing day.

No matter what comes, I will be here praying in sight of the sycamore.

Pray Brothers and Sisters, pray as fervently and as often as you can.

It is our Creator who made and controls the world, not the powers that be—not even those promising to take away everything we have with the brazen claim that “we will have nothing but be happy”.