This tree caught my eye when I was playing in the backyard with my children. The top branches were broken and hanging on by a thread after our last snow storm. The trunk was covered in lumps and growths that looked like scars. This tree looked as if it had been through storm after storm, and while you could tell it was worn and scarred, it was still standing. I can relate so deeply to this tree. My insides are scarred… my spark, my vivaciousness, my innocence….the things that used to make me who I am… seem to have disappeared. From outward appearances you would never know I am a shell surrounding the shattered pieces of who I used to be. But like this tree, I am still standing. I am still fighting. I am showing the impact of the storms I’ve endured… but I’ve endured. I know in time I’ll put the pieces back together. I’m not naive enough to think I’ll ever be the same and that the scars will not still be there… but just like the strength and resolve I can see behind the physical blemishes of this tree, there can be beauty in that.