The Day the Squirrels Cried... and so did I

Last Friday was a terrible-horrible day on North Walnut Street. Our neighbors, a Christian seminary, did an awful thing. They hacked down the last walnut trees on North Walnut Street.

And, they also dismembered a wild cherry, a couple of maples and a few others.


It was like in Lord of the Rings when you see the Orcs clear cutting all the trees.

We shouldn't have been surprised. They did this across the street from us in 2004, slashing red buds, dogwood and cherry trees with no respect for God's creation.  
 Why you ask?  

 To make ugly gravel parking lots. It makes no sense at all. They told us in 2004 that they were going to plant "better" trees and landscape the area making this a "bright spot" in the community. It is still gravel, mud and dust, 6 1/2 years later.









 This old walnut tree succumbed to the chain saw. Generations of squirrels lived and ate in this tree. It shaded Bob's office for years and will never be able to be replaced in my lifetime. 

The wood was not even saved to make anything useful, just sawed into small bits and tossed in the back of a dump truck.


A few maples were lost in the rampage. The stripped one [near the top of the page] was cut down to the ground a few days after I took these photos.

This seminary actually received a "green award" this past year for its environmental conscience. I guess they must have restricted flow toilets and some compact fluorescent bulbs in their buildings or something. 


It just goes to show you how meaningless those green awards are, doesn't it?



I have to wonder about the social conscience and the value of stewardship that this institution espouses. They are big on the word "community" but it seems like it pertains to a closed community within the hallowed walls of the seminary.


Once you get out to the parking lot area, who cares? Who cares about the community outside the walls?


I find it ironic that they send folks all over the world to be missionaries, and yet don't know how to be good neighbors. I remember the words of Mother Teresa who said that missionary work begins with your neighbors.  I have to agree.  As you can see, we have terrible neighbors.

 We have lived next door to them for over 18 years and I still really don't know them. It is  hard to be neighbors with an institution. How can you wave hello, or share brownies or conversations over the fence?


You can't.

All you can do is wonder what they are thinking and what they are doing.When I asked two workers what was going on I got these responses,

"I don't know. They don't tell me anything," and "I'm just earning a paycheck."
 
This past week all the rubble was raked up and hauled away. Now we are left with nothing but stumps.

And at the end of the day, there is one lone squirrel crying in the tree and one middle aged grandma crying beneath it.


Jill 

                                                                     

Parking Lots and Parables…

OK, I live between Seminary Parking Lots.

Across the street are Seminary Parking Lots. To the right of my house is a seminary parking lot. To the left of our house we have one house with fantastic neighbors, and next to them seminary parking lots. It used to be a neighborhood, but not anymore. But, that is a topic for another day.

We had a big ice storm a couple of days ago. Lots of trees and limbs down, many people without power and phone and so forth.

At any rate, some seminary students parked in the lot across the street today. Now these parking lots are really no more than fields with the big stuff removed [including all the flowering trees—again a topic for another day] and some gravel scattered about. The gravel is mostly gone now, sunk into the Kentucky mud

Kentucky mud is mostly clay and is very sticky and when some gets on your shoe you are afraid you stepped in a dog pile. So, at any rate, Kentucky mud sucked most of the gravel under the parking lots. Today, as every day, no one scrapes or plows or takes care of the lots. The brave [or not too swift] parked there today. Did I mention that they are not flat and that to get out of the parking lot across the street you have to come up an incline-and remember no gravel, just slippery Kentucky mud with ice and snow over it.

I noticed a man in a PT Cruiser trying to get out, but he couldn’t. I was home alone, so I went to see if I could help. He was getting more and more stuck because he was spinning his tires on the mud/snow/ice mix and had zero traction. I went back in the house to get some kitty litter to put under his tires and was hoping for someone to come along who could help push just a bit. With another person to push, we could have given him that little extra UMPH he needed to get his front tires on the blacktop street. Since his car had front wheel drive, once his front tire grabbed the street, he would be fine.
So, I tossed down some litter, so he could back up and get another run at it, when two tall, young seminary students came out to the parking lot. They were both about 6 ft tall and no older than 30. Perfect! They looked our way, watched for a minute, got in their car and tried getting out a different way. They got out, rolled down their window and said, “You might want to try over here.” And they took off!

OK, I might not be a Samaritan, and the guy in the car [who by the way was probably at least my age, if not older—probably closer to 60] wasn’t beaten and left for dead, but the similarity was striking. Here were two young strong seminary students—going into ministry—who could not take a couple of minutes to give the guy’s car a quick shove into the street!!! Who could not be bothered! My mouth dropped open as my hand held the 20# bucket of kitty litter.

I did help get the guy’s car out. As he was leaving, he rolled down his window and said, “If I am around in better weather, I owe you a pizza!”

I couldn’t help thinking what these guys are studying in seminary?? Obviously not what Paul told us, “Be ambassadors for Christ, as if Christ is entreating through you.” Ministry is here, it is now. It is your husband, your kids, your neighbor, the guy stuck in the snow…it is like breathing in and out. It is not something in the future that you can study for [obviously] --it is living and breathing and helping day in day out.

Take care,
Jill