When Sarah Murphy planted

A single seed many years ago

Never in her wildest dreams

Did she imagine how tall it’d grow;

For months the young girl waited

Hoping patiently

That with the thaw of winter

A miracle she would see;

On hands and knees, she searched

The muddy dirt and debris

Until her hand, numb from cold

Felt the tiny nub of a sycamore tree;

Years went by and the seedling

Grew into a hardy tree

Just as young Sarah became a bride

And soon her family grew by three;

Under the canopy of leaves

Sarah watched her children play

She raised them up to what they’d become

And cried when they moved away;

Through all the years of love

She gave her husband and family

Sarah had always felt safe

Underneath her sycamore tree;

So, when the time had come

For Sarah to look at all she had achieved

Her spirit drifted on the autumn air

Escorted by her tree’s leaves;

Today, the tree stands tall

Living into its second century

A towering symbol of one girl’s love

Her life, her legacy