One of the things we love to do is walk along a favorite street in early May when the flowering crab apple trees are in full bloom. The street follows the bluffs of Stillwater, Minnesota, and, if we time it just right, we arrive on the peak days when the street nearly glows pink with blossoms.
We’ve been taking this walk for years, and this year we noticed something new: two trees filled with colored square pieces of paper with little notes written on them. I was touched by some of the messages and looked around to see if there was someone nearby who could tell us more. A neighbor shared that they were the “wishing trees,” a tradition started by Caroline, a young girl.
We came by a couple of days later and were fortunate to meet Caroline; her mother, Heidi; and their dear neighbor Jani out in the yard in front of the trees.
Jani and Heidi shared the story of how, in the early 1980s, Jani and her husband, Jack, dreamed of lining the streets with flowering crab apple trees. With Jack and Jani—the “mother” of the trees—at the lead, the neighbors planted a number of trees. Jack passed away in 2009, and a plaque on a nearby bench reads in part, “Loving husband, father, friend, and neighbor. You planted our seeds and watched us grow into a neighborhood where love and kindness flowed.” So fond of Jack were Heidi’s sons that they referred to him as Grandpa.
Heidi explained that “the inspiration for the wishing trees came from a book that my parents had when I was little, and they still have it and have read it to my daughter Caroline. The idea of the book is if you plant a lollipop in the ground, the tree would become a lollipop tree and grow lollipops, or if you planted a button, it would grow into a button tree. Caroline thought we should have a wishing tree, and you hang up a wish and it would come true.” And with that, the wishing trees, now in their second year, are filled with wishes.
“I wish for smooth transitions for my parents and my family as they move into assisted care.”
“I wish people didn’t have to wonder if they were enough.”
“My boyfriend will listen to me and actually hear me.”
“We told Caroline that she had to be a steward of the wishes and take good care of them.” Caroline now has a cookie tin of carefully kept wishes, and they enjoy reading through them occasionally.
I was touched to learn how much passersby enjoy lingering by the trees, reading the wishes left by others or writing their own. So many people enjoy leaving wishes that Heidi must stay attentive to ensure enough tags and pens are available for those who want to write.
“I’m wishing for a happy and healthy summer.”
“That hubby can keep or get a similar job.”
“To beat breast cancer and live to see my babies grow up.”
Some wishes are more general, others are very personal, and all are special. Especially touching are the ones written by children.
“I wish to not make a fool out of myself in P.E.”
“I wish to be an Olympic wrestler.”
“For New Zealand to float closer to the USA.”
Heidi says they keep the wishing tree tradition going because it really seems to resonate with people. She thinks Caroline likes being the founder of the wishing trees. “I enjoying helping her keep it going. It’s a nice way for [us] to bond,” she said.
Do you have a favorite walk route you keep repeating? Have you found something new or unexpected along your way?
