TREES

My sweet husband retired recently, and in anticipation of Spring he is attending online classes to become a Master Gardener. What a thoughtful and unique birthday gift this was from his dear friend, Steve. So now I’m thinking about Spring too. While many of our friends and family members have abandoned us for warmer climates, we hunker down in front of fireplace and remember the brave days of COVID when we entertained our friends outdoors in the snow around a firepit with propane heaters. It took some work to pull this off. It’s just one example of what people can do during times of difficulty.

As I look ahead to when the first crocuses will reach for the clouds, I gaze out the window at the stillness only winter can bring. The arctic cold blankets the forest in snow and ice and I watch the oak trees… bare, their branches naked against the gray sky. They stand tall, unshaken, their quiet strength undeniable. We all know people like these oak trees… strong, resilient individuals who draw from an inner well of power to live fully.

This image of resilience amidst the harsh cold and deep snow drifts brought me back to a conversation with JSL Chaplain Rabbi Polter, who shared a video on aish.com titled “The Gateway to Eternal Life: Seasons of the Moon.” In the video, Ohr Somayach Rabbi Yaacov Asher Sinclair posed a thought-provoking question to us: “How does winter symbolize the bursting forth of life?”

It’s a paradox. How can a season that embodies dormancy, the end of cycles, also represent new beginnings, growth, and life?

I watched the video several times, and the more I thought about it, the more I felt the connection between winter and aging. It’s the season when nature seems to take a break before the promise of spring. But from a Jewish perspective, winter is not about endings, it’s about preparation, anticipation, and the quiet work being accomplished beneath the surface, laying the groundwork for what comes next.

The Hebrew word for winter, חורף (choref), doesn’t speak of decay or stagnation. Instead, it suggests a time of deep preparation for something about to emerge: a new season, a new life, a new chapter. Like the trees, whose roots are deepening, we too are always growing, even when we’re dormant and simply sitting and thinking.

The recent Jewish holiday, Tu B’Shvat, the New Year for trees, celebrates renewal. It’s a reminder that life is cyclical. Even in the coldest, darkest, most challenging times, we remain rooted and poised for growth. We know that the trees that seem dormant in winter, beneath the surface are actually full of life and growth. And in this season, we, too, can weather our struggles and difficult moments and dig deep to uncover what’s waiting to emerge.

Each of us has the power to view the winter of our life as an opportunity to grow and thrive. We can find new possibilities, and in times of hardship, we can ready each other for Spring and inspire each other to pursue new beginnings.

I think of JSL as a place that breathes new life into those who live here. It’s inspiring to see residents engage in new programs and activities, build new friendships, learn new skills, and share new moments of joy. Together, we laugh, we cry, we grow, and we support one another. It’s a reminder that no matter where we are in life, we always have the power to bloom.

Shabbat Shalom.