A few years back I dishwashed at Woodward’s Garden, where Division and Mission streets intersect in San Francisco. From my station I could look out over the heads of those consumed with their $20/plate gastronomic extravaganza's, and out onto a twilighted Mission street. Half way across the street lay an island or median looking thing with a tall and scraggly looking tree growing out of it. It was not uncommon to see someone standing idly and holding cardboard at this location.


One evening, a Native American looking man planted himself on this island, but poised himself distinctly different from the others. He sat facing away from the oncoming traffic, kneeling, sitting on his feet. I thought this quite extravagant for someone who to me looked homeless and in need of money.


In the nights to come, this man would come and poise himself in the same position, facing away from traffic. He was seen there so often that the chefs from our restaurant would occasionally fix him a plate of food at the end of the night. It was on one of these nights that an inquisitive chef found out that the kneeling man was praying for the tree, which lay before him on this concrete island. The tree was sick, and this man was praying for the health of the tree.


This blew me away. That's so fucking cool! Here's someone who obviously doesn't have any money, if even a roof over his head, and he selflessly gives his time and prayer to a tree, at one of the ugliest intersections of the city, no less!


After four or five weeks, this tree healer dissappeared, and to this day I idolize and worship that gentleman, wishing I could achieve such conviction for anything.