The angel came flying across the stormy countryside, his golden wings dripping with rain.

'Cedar,' he called out to a young tree, 'may I shelter under your branches?'

'By all means,' said the Cedar, and she wrapped her tender branches around him.  Thunder rolled and lightning forked across the sky.  The angel trembled. 

'Go to sleep,' whispered the Cedar, comforting him, 'I'll wake you up when the storm has passed.'

The angel closed his eyes and went to sleep. When the tree shook him awake again, the storm had waned; the sun was shining.  'Thank you, Cedar,' he said,  'May your fruit be a blessing to the whole world.'  And, spreading his wings, he flew into the golden heavens.

Time passed, and the young Cedar grew into a mighty tree.  Her branches were strong and solid but she bore no fruit for people to eat.  Sometimes, when the birds had nestled to sleep in her branches, she remembered what the angel had said to her:  'May your fruit be a blessing to the whole world.'

'But how can that be?' she wondered.  'How can my fruit be a blessing if I bear none?'

Then one summer, three Roman soldiers came along the road, each one wielding an axe.     'This one will do,' said one of them, pointing to the Cedar.    They raised their axes and, in no time at all, the mighty tree crashed to the ground.  The soldiers lopped off her branches; then they dragged her talong the streets of Jerusalem to a magnificent palace .  There they placed her on the shoulders of a condemned man.

The poor man was in pain.  Blood was pouring down his face.  The soldiers forced him to carry his burden up a steep hill.  Crowds of people followed, some crying others jeering.

At the top of the hill, the soldiers nailed the man to the Cedar.  As they raised him aloft, a terrible storm broke loose on the world, tearing the countryside to pieces.  

The condemned man sighed one last time and died.   The tree moaned, numbed with pain and fear.  But, suddenly, her old friend the angel was by her side, sprinkling golden raindrops from his wings.

'This man who hangs from your branches is the Son of God,' he said, 'his death has saved mankind and opened the doors to heaven.  Behold, the fruit of your pain is a blessing to all.'

Then the Cedar understood.  She had been chosen; she would be remembered forever as the tree that helped save the world.