Giving Tree Found

The Wisdom of a Giving Tree

The wisdom that comes from motherhood—and parenthood—has a way of seeping quietly into the soul. It arrives in small moments, often when we least expect it, and somehow manages to leave an eternal imprint.

As Fridays go, most of us are relieved to finally reach the end of the week. This particular Friday was no different. It had been a stressful one, and as I shifted from work mode into evening playtime with my 3.5-year-old son, I found myself only half-present.

My body was home, but my mind was still sorting through the chaos of the week behind me and scanning the endless to-do list waiting in the days ahead.

Then, in the middle of my swirling thoughts, my son pointed to a painting of a tree hanging in our bathroom—a painting I had owned for years, but had barely noticed that day.

“Look, Mom,” he said, his little voice full of wonder. “It’s the giffing twee!”

There was no typo in his words, only the charm of 3-year-old pronunciation. He meant The Giving Tree.

I had checked out Shel Silverstein’s beloved book from the library the week before, and it had quickly become his favorite. Clearly, the story had stayed with him.

But what I did not expect was how deeply his words would stay with me.

A Wake-Up Call

In that moment, I was struck by how distracted I had become. I was so caught up in the residue of the day and the worries of tomorrow that I was missing what was standing right beside me.

My son—my own giving tree—was there with me.

And I was too preoccupied to see him.

So I stopped.

Right then and there, I knelt down beside him, wrapped my arm around him, and looked up at the tree painting through his eyes.

“Yes,” I said softly. “That is the giving tree. How amazing. Thank you, Michael, for reminding me. I never want to forget this moment.”

His face lit up with the kind of simple, pure contentment only a child can offer.

A Profound Reminder

That small observation from my son became something much larger. It brought me back to myself. Back to him. Back to the sacred ordinary.

It reminded me that life’s tasks, worries, and demands will always be there. There will always be another list, another deadline, another problem to solve.

But childhood does not wait.

These moments—small hands, mispronounced words, unexpected wonder, a child asking us to look more closely—are fleeting. And yet they are the very moments that shape us, soften us, and call us back to what matters most.

That day, I knew exactly who my giving tree was.

And I was grateful he had reminded me to look.

Who is your giving tree today?

The Giving Tree, written by Shel Silverstein in 1964, tells the timeless story of a tree whose love for a boy is expressed through selfless giving. It is a tender, complicated reminder of love, sacrifice, and the importance of noticing the giving trees in our own lives before the moment passes.