The Sleepy Dogwood

We have a dogwood tree in our backyard.  All the others in the neighborhood are blooming in all their pink and white glory.  Mine is still sleeping in the corner with the oak spreading its protective arms over it.  I thought the dogwood was dead and gave it a closer look.  It has new growth coming, the promise of something happening.  I wanted to shake it a little, wake it up.  It worked on a birch tree which Rick got tired of looking at some years ago and went out to pull it up with his bare hands.  He pulled and yanked, gave it a kick or two and it wouldn’t come out.  The next year, it thrived.  So here I am debating.  Does my dogwood need some rough handling?   I prefer talking.  “Come on!  Pretty please.  Bloom!  We’re leaving soon and I don’t want to miss your show.”  It’s still snoozing. 

The friend who will be housesitting will have the pleasure of the dogwood’s display.  She can sit on the deck with the sun shining and look down into the shady area below and see those flowers spreading across every branch. 

Everything happens in God’s perfect time.