Read by Matilda Longbottom

On a whimsical Christmas wish, I found myself yearning for a linden tree. “I want a linden tree for Christmas,” I declared to Mike, who responded with a quizzical look. “$50 for a tree?” he chuckled. Little did we know, our linden adventure was just beginning.

Arriving fashionably late in March, courtesy of COVID-induced delays, our linden appeared lifeless at first glance. But being the resourceful Philly girl that I am, I attempted to revive it by placing it in a vase—roots up, much to Mike’s bemusement. Eventually, he took charge, planting it in our yard, reminding me of the patience required, especially in our septuagenarian years.

Dubbed “Henrika Linden” by Mike’s Facebook friends, our little stick of a tree became a social media sensation, with inquiries about its progress echoing the Rocky theme song. And then, like a miracle, leaves began to sprout, one by one.

As Henrika flourished, I delved into the lore of the linden, discovering its significance as the Americana Basswood, renowned for its truth-telling qualities. Large lindens served as hubs for social gatherings and weddings, earning it the moniker of the “lime” tree—a symbol of peace, hope, and love. Its edible leaves and flowers, along with the honey it yields, added to its mystique.

Driven by curiosity, I embarked on a quest to witness a blooming linden. My journey led me to the local college arboretum, where each tree bore a dedication in memory of someone dear. Despite my initial disappointment, I persisted, calling the arboretum year after year in search of blooming lindens, even resorting to linden-scented aromatherapy to capture its essence.

But my fascination wasn’t merely botanical; it was rooted in remembrance. As a writer and avid reader, I cherished the profound connections we forge through literature. Inspired by tales of resilience during the Holocaust, I sought to understand the significance of linden trees to those who found solace beneath their boughs, clinging to hope amidst unimaginable despair.

In my quest for the linden’s legacy, I discovered more than just a fragrant bloom. I unearthed stories of courage, resilience, and the enduring power of memory. And though I may never find a blooming linden, the journey itself has been a testament to the human spirit—a reminder that even in the darkest of times, there remains a glimmer of hope, carried on the whisper of a linden-scented breeze. ❖

About the Author: Hannah Dougherty Campbell, a spirited wordsmith with a heart as lush as her garden, hails from the suburbs of Philadelphia. Inspired by the beauty of nature and the resilience of the human spirit, Hannah found solace and creativity in crafting heartfelt poetry. With a background in teaching and a passion for nurturing creativity, she imparts her wisdom through her creative-writing classes, where she encourages others to explore the depths of their souls through the written word. Her cherished tradition of assigning flowers to personalities has blossomed into a family heirloom, enriching the lives of her loved ones and students alike. Through her work, she reminds us all of the delicate dance between nature and humanity, where every petal tells a story and every soul blooms in its own unique way.