This black and white photo (above, right and below) is of our very first Wishing Tree. It was taken in December of 2001 in front of our home in Fairfield, Conn., just outside New York City. My husband Brad worked on the floor of the New York Stock Exchange for many years, and our two young boys were used to their dad leaving early for his commute into the city and coming home just in time for dinner.

The morning of September 11, 2001, was filled with the usual goodbye kisses from dad, giggles through breakfast and me wrangling the boys to get dressed, in the car and off to school. It was a beautiful sunny day and after dropping my boys off, I reluctantly made my way to the gym. I was jogging on the treadmill, watching the screen above me, when I saw it for the first time: The black billows of smoke, the towers and the horror of the planes crashing against the bright blue sky.

There are no words for what it felt like to wait for the phone to ring after rushing home. Finally, I heard my husband’s voice – steady but tinged with fear. “Polly, it’s bad. We are not exactly sure of all the details yet, but I wanted you to know I am okay and that I love you.” He told me he would call me back soon and not to worry.

Panic spread in my body as we were asked to come pick up our children from school. Back at home, as the afternoon passed, the phone never did ring, and I became numb with worry. The boys wanted to sit on the front porch and wait for dad to come home. I sat with them all day and into the night. Every second we waited, the possibility that he might not ever come home became more real.

The original Wishing Tree, erected in the Simpkins' yard in 2001. — courtesy Polly Simpkins

As the boys sat barely eating chicken nuggets and applesauce on the front steps that night, they suddenly bolted up in unison screaming, “There he is!” And sure enough, there was Dad walking toward us. Still in his business suit, he was completely covered from head to toe in thick white dust. As the boys ran to him and he came closer, I saw the tears begin to fall from his eyes. He fell sobbing into my arms as our boys jumped up to hug him. As if in a dream, he was finally home, just in time for dinner.

We began to learn of the many from our community who never came home that day. The weeks and months that followed were a blur of funerals, memorials and gatherings of support for the families who had lost loved ones, as they struggled to figure out how to move forward.

As the holidays approached, we hung the 4th of July banner I had made with the boys on our house that read “The land of the free and the home of the brave.” We dug a hole in our front yard and took the boys to get an “outside” Christmas tree, then secured the tree in the hole.

We sent out invites to all the neighborhood families to come and gather around our tree. We put out hot chocolate and candy canes, ribbons and paper for writing wishes, and we wondered if anyone would actually come.

On a quiet Saturday afternoon in December they all did come, and together we reminded ourselves of the love and gratitude we felt for each other as a community. We filled that tree with decorations, prayers, wishes and memories of all who had been lost, but also for the hope of the good that was to come in the new year.

The Simpkins put out cocoa and candy canes along with tags and pens for writing out your wish or intention. — courtesy Polly Simpkins

From that day forward, the Wishing Tree has become a symbol of hope, compassion and everything that matters in all of our lives. Since we moved back to the Vineyard in 2012 to care for my father after a very severe stroke, the Wishing Tree tradition has continued.

Just like we did so long ago, we still dig a hole in our front yard on William street in Vineyard Haven and fill it with a beautiful tree. We put out the hot chocolate and candy canes and we invite the entire Island community to come visit. We put the tree out over Thanksgiving weekend, and sometimes we still wonder if people will come and take a moment to put a wish, a prayer or an intention on the tree. But somehow, they always show up and fill the tree with beautiful wishes. We take the wishes off the tree on New Year’s Eve, read each one aloud and burn them so that they rise up to manifest! It’s a wonderful way of honoring all of the beautiful messages and intentions.

When the holidays are over, each wish is read aloud, burned, and sent off to the universe to manifest. — courtesy Polly Simpkins

I hope you will have time to visit our Wishing Tree soon, and may it inspire you to enjoy this time of year a little more deeply, to find the time to remember those who have passed from this life who you miss or to set forth an intention for the new year. All are welcome!

And as you set the table, light the candles, trim the tree and prepare to welcome those you love this holiday season, may you never take for granted the moment they finally walk through your door, just in time for dinner.

 

Polly Simpkins is an interspiritual minister, a ceremonialist and the founder of Petal Sky, which provides spiritual care for all stages of life, including death. She is also a fourth-generation Islander, a story gatherer and a DJ at MVY Radio.