The earth is not a mere fragment of dead history, a stratum upon stratum like the leaves of a book, to be studied by biologists and antiquarians chiefly, but living poetry like the leaves of a tree, which precede flowers and fruit — not a fossil earth but a living earth.
Entering the world of the spirit, I saw a vision which I could not adequately describe if I lived for a thousand years. The central part was a broad highway lined with beautiful trees radiating all the colors of the rainbow. Each tree bore all the fruits known to me and many others I had never seen before. The nine-pointed star was situated at the end of the road and drew me towards it and in the distance there were parks and gardens with rare trees from many countries and friends of all colors and creeds. Dominating the garden of delight was The Tree of Life with leaves for the healing of the Nations.
~ from MY LIFE, MY TREES by Richard St. Barbe Baker
