Write a Wish or Ride a Wish

While in DC, we came across a sculpture courtyard that was part of the Smithsonian/Mall.  We almost missed it, it was so secluded...it was there we discovered the "Wishing Tree" with curious scraps of paper attached.

Upon further examination, the scraps of paper were just that.... old receipts, memo pad papers, gum wrappers, etc. that people had written wishes upon and stuck on the branches.

Most were unsigned, some were wishes of children transcribed by a parent ("I wish for world peace." -6 yr. old boy), and some were funny ("I wish you were a fountain"). I couldn't stop reading.

I was curious what people would write, given the chance to send a wish upon the breeze of a tree.

What were the stories behind the wishes?


"I wish for forgiveness."

Heartbreak.  Love.  Longing.

"I wish for a cure for Autism."

Struggle.  What ifs.  Longing.

"I wish my grandmother was alive."

Memories.  Missing.  Longing.

We long for things, so we wish.  We wish for things we don't have, so we touch.  Touch paper.  Touch the tree. Write our desires and ride our desires on the possibility that they are somehow heard clearer by the magic tree, or the universe, or by God himself.

I didn't add at the time, but I keep thinking about my own wishing tree and what I long for.

I wish for greater wisdom.

I wish for more capacity to love.

I wish for forgiveness.

I, too, wish my grandmother were alive.

Oh, yeah.  I wish Alex didn't poop a battery last Sunday.  (Relax, it wasn't a D cell... just a small disk kind.)

Comment a wish or two on my virtual wishing tree.  (It looks more like a white box with a funny word underneath, but if you squint it looks a little like a tree in a snowstorm.)