With Fall approaching, I stumbled upon this little “fruit of the oak” I wrote 10 years ago.

“Not every acorn becomes a tree. The power is contained in each one, but some never root and fall by the wayside.”

I got curious about what he meant by “root.”

I got that it meant that some acorns never find the fertile soil in which to grow. They have all the requisite potential, but some wind up being a squirrel’s dinner instead of its home.

Does the unfulfilled acorn know about fertile soil? My guess is he senses it at some level, but dismisses it as some fairy tale that his acorn friends discussed when they all still lived together in the tree.

He did believe he was going to fall to earth one day because he had seen it happen to others. But when it happened for him, he got caught up in all the glitz this new environment had to offer. He never went looking for the lush loam he had heard about because that seemed too farfetched, and who wants to grow up anyway?

He went on his way rolling from one hardened surface to another in search of his earthly thrills. Then one day it happened. His shell began to crack. Maybe it was from all those narrow escapes from those pesky squirrels, or the wear and tear from rolling on hard pan and clay.

Whatever the reason, he was not as indestructible as he once thought. He intuitively knew he had to root somewhere or he would wind up like Humpty Dumpty, or worse be Bullwinkle‘s buddy’s breakfast.

Then out of nowhere, a giant storm with gale force winds blew this acorn far away from its familiar stomped grounds. Fortunately, he experienced a soft landing into something that was unfamiliar yet very comforting. This felt like home. He nestled into this new surrounding and felt sensations that eased all his fears. Could this be the loam the others had talked about?

He started to notice roots coming out of his cracked shell and digging deep into this accepting earth. “This is what they were talking about. It really exists!” he joyfully exclaimed.

This story has a happy ending. Our once confused little acorn now stands as a tall oak tree in a park where families picnic and children play. He continues to marvel at how rooted he has become and how fulfilling it feels to reach one’s potential. If he had any advice for aimless acorns, it would be this:

“Find the substance that helps you grow.”

All the best,

John