In college, I volunteered with a group that held kid’s clubs in the inner city.  We focused on one neighborhood in Clearwater. We would go into the neighborhood, pick up the kids, (with the permission of their parents) and walk them across the street to a field to play games, sing songs, and such.

The neighborhood was old.  The buildings were fairly run down and the whole of it was tan and dingy. The street of the neighborhood made sort of a “U” shape arrangement. And at the bottom of that “U” was a tree.

This tree had pale green leaves most of the year but for one season it exploded in pale, purple blossoms.

Every limb and branch dripped with bright lavender.  It was the most glorious burst of color.  I remember turning the corner one afternoon and there stood the tree, heavy with periwinkle, the flowers doting the tan pavement, and off to the side on a phone line, were four wild parakeets, in lime green.  The mental picture has never left me.

This type of tree seems to follow me.  There was one at the end of the street where my first birth mom lived.  I would often see them in apartment complexes where I would be doing casework.  For some reason they are usually found in urban areas. I think it’s because they don’t require much soil.

Because I often found them when I was volunteering or doing social work, they always stood as a symbol of hope for me.  A bright burst of joy when you least expect it. Taking root in the smallest amount of soil and choosing to bloom against all odds.

Eventually the tree in that project in Clearwater spread its color across the neighborhood.  Money was poured into that community, and they redid the whole neighborhood.  The blossoms blew across the street and, in the field where we used to play, a library was built.  It blew down the street further still and they built a community center with a playground and a pool. It’s a much different neighborhood now with more opportunities for the children to learn and grow.

I believe in Social Work.  I believe in the people that listen to those that are not often heard.  I believe in those that are standing in the cracks waiting to catch those who fall through.  I believe in the value of the human soul and that the tending to that soul changes societies and breaks generational patterns.  And I believe in hope, not as a fool believes without cause, but because I work with social workers.

At the corner of the parking lot for Heart of Adoptions stands my tree.  Casting shade over our cars and drenching our parking spaces with a sea of purple.

It made this office feel like home, because hope blooms here.