“Tell them Bob,” whisper the leaves as the tree smiles at me, “that we are dancing inside, even at times when the Breeze doesn’t blow. In the stillness of the morning the peepul leaves look at me, their stems also hushed in their static. How often, we who have felt blessings upon blessings of our Father’s love, suddenly find the breeze stopping, and a lull? Do we look up disappointed or do we smile knowing that even without His blessings His presence is still around, that suddenly like a gust of wind those heavenly arms will reach out and make us twirl and whirl, spin, coil and gyrate around like a dancer, and you the partner on the dance floor of life? ![]() That a father bestows gifts on his child, which makes the child bounce and skip around with happiness, and then the father stops, but the child, having felt the father’s love, remains in that state of joy, knowing that the love is there, and has not gone away. ![]() I was certain the same is with us even as my mind likens the breeze and the leaves to the relationship between a father and child. I was certain that I’d struck upon a great truth, that every gust of wind was a mountain top experience which the leaves had with their Maker, and even when the wind stopped, the joy remained. And in my mind, I wondered whether that burst of breeze had been captured by the leaves in their little hearts and kept inside, so that even though the wind had stopped, the joy of their dancing remained. There seemed sparkles of excitement, even as the leaves now hung still. It has by now become commonplace to hear the terrorist attacks of September 11th, 2001 referred to as events that 'changed the world.
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