Memorial Trees
At this time many organizations, municipalities and counties
are earnestly seeking some suitable memorial to their members or citizens who
have gone out from them in the service of their country and given their lives
for the freedom of the world.
What more fitting memorials could there be than trees! Not
monuments in stone, never changing, indifferent alike to the seasons, and the
care of loving hands; but beautiful young trees, growing every upward and
outward towards the light, like the souls of those whom we seek to commemorate
and responding daily to the care bestowed upon them.
The ideal tree for this purpose is one that will thrive in
most situations, is resistant to disease, will live long, is beautiful in youth
and will be still more beautiful in age. Such is our American white oak. It
grows slowly, but no tree arouses such genuine admiration, affection and
inspiration. Some other oaks, such as the willow oak, water oak, red oak, pin
oak, live oak, and others, are ideal for the different parts of North Carolina
in which they are native, but the white oak thrives all over this state, and in
fact over practically all the eastern United States.
Let us plant oaks, the symbol of strength—one might almost
say of immortality—as memorial trees, not only singly on school or home
grounds, but in parks and more particularly in avenues along our important
roads, making our ways beautiful with their living beauty and keeping alive the
sacred memories of those whom we love and shall always delight to honor.
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From The Pinehurst Outlook, Jan. 18, 1919
Trees for France
We are printing this issue a suggestion that throughout the
country, and specifically in this neighborhood, trees be planted as a memorial
to all our soldiers that have fallen in the war, as the most perfect and
fitting possible tribute and monument that could be made for them.
A movement of equal importance to the National spirit has
been inaugurated by the New York Bird and Tree Club. Everyone knows that in
large sections of France the Huns have razed not only the immemorial forests,
but hacked down every shade tree and every fruit tree. The commercial loss to
the Frenchman, great as it is, is not equal to the anguish of the soul with
which he views the total mutilation of his ancestral landscape.
It is suggested that as simple and as welcome a tribute as
any American could pay to France would be to replace a tree in this blasted
battle ground. So this society has printed a beautiful and appropriate mailing
card, inscribed with Joyce Kilmer’s now classic poem, with the further
inscription:
“I am planting a Fruit Tree in Devastated France in Memory
of our Heroes who gave their Lives that the World might be Free.”
These cards sell for 25 cents. And for every card sold the
society pledges itself to plant a fruit tree in France. Consequently, to get
down to cases, if you have any desire to plant a fruit tree in France, send to
Mrs. Robert A. Miller, President, 17 West 45th street, and buy as
many of these artistic little cards as you wish to plant trees. Perhaps your
friends would like to have the poem and the picture, and perhaps be equally
glad to know of the opportunity. The poem, now known all over the world, reads:
Trees
I think that I shall
never see
A poem lovely as a
tree.
A tree whose hungry
mouth is prest
Against the earth’s
sweet flowing breast.
A tree that looks at
God all day,
And lifts her leafy
arms to pray;
A tree that may in
summer wear
A nest of robins in
her hair;
Upon whose bosom snow
has lain,
Who intimately lives
with rain.
Poems are made by
fools like me,
But only God can make
a tree.
Joyce Kilmer, July 31, 1918
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