From the Torah we learn: ‘For man is like a tree of the field’ (Deuteronomy 32:19). This fundamental truth is known even to young children and has even become the subject of a popular song. But what really connects man and tree? When we go out into the field on Tu Bishvat and sit in the cool shade of the trees, can we also learn a lesson that can guide us in our daily lives?
Look at the tree. Its sturdy trunk and far-reaching branches are impressive, but it all started with one tiny seed. The ‘nuclear’ potential contained in that tiny seed is nothing short of amazing – a modest investment in a seed can yield a mighty tree that bears excellent fruit. Every child is like that seed, and an adult is like the tree. If we want our children to grow into stable, valuable adults, we must invest in them from the very beginning – even when they are just babies. The benefits of that early investment will ultimately bear fruit for everyone when these children grow into responsible, principled people who contribute to society.
Let us now turn our gaze to the earth and look for the roots. Although invisible to the eye, the roots are there, and without them, a tree cannot withstand the storms of nature. Even if the tree survives for a while, one day a strong wind could uproot it completely. In a similar way, faith is like the roots that give a person stability and inner strength in times of crisis. Without that anchorage, external pressures – whether strong winds, social forces or a changing environment – can disrupt a life.
But a tree is more than just its seed and roots. It also has a trunk and branches. Faith alone is not enough; one must move forward, grow and develop. The trunk and branches symbolise a person’s good deeds. Is there a commandment? The
tree grows a little further! Have you honoured your parents? Then another branch is born! And behold, the tree continues to grow – a healthy tree never stops growing. If growth were to ever stop, its branches would wither and shrink, and no new branches would ever sprout.
How, then, do we distinguish whether a tree bears fruit or is bare? Many trees have strong roots, a robust trunk and numerous branches. But the true measure lies in whether they produce fruit that benefits everyone, or whether the abundance is hoarded, leaving the tree in a state of selfish isolation. Just like trees, humans also have an inherent duty to think of their fellow human beings, to give of themselves and to do what is best for others. The fruit that is sown today will grow into trees of our own in time. It is essential that this cycle of giving and growth never ends.
It reminds me of a conversation between Rabbi Yitzhak and Rabbi Nachman, who once spoke at length about the Torah. When they parted, Rabbi Nachman asked, ‘Bless me, Rabbi!’ Rabbi Yitzhak replied, ‘Let me give you a comparison. Imagine a man wandering through the desert—hungry, exhausted and thirsty—who finds a tree whose fruit is sweet, whose shade is inviting, and beneath which flows a stream of living water. He eats of its fruit, drinks of its water and rests in its shade. When he is about to leave, he cries out, ‘O tree, tree! How shall I bless you? If I declare that your fruit is sweet, it is indeed sweet; if I say that your shade is inviting, it is so; if I remark that the water beneath you gives life, it is indeed so. But may every seedling that sprouts from you be as wonderful as you are.’ And how else shall I bless you? If with the Torah, may the Torah be yours; if with wealth, may wealth be yours; if with children, may you be blessed with children. But above all, may your descendants be as exemplary as you are.’
