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Tuesday, August 1, 2006

roots to conceit

There once was a tree regarded by the other trees in the forest to be mighty in stature and magnificent in form. With each new spring, he appreciatively mused over the adoration he received, and in time this turned into such a deep rooted conceit that it superseded interest in the very roots that bore him. "Why, what started me has no resemblance to what I have become", thought the tree. His thought and attention were so focused on his grand foliage and great sprawling limbs that he grew farther from what he was. As time passed, he lost his remembrance of what made him, and slowly lost what he really was. He had become his praise.

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