Love in a Nutshell – June: The Wishing Tree
Here is the June entry of Love in a Nutshell – A Maple Lane Mystery, centered around Father’s Day, legacy, and the tender threads that tie us to those who’ve helped shape us—whether by birth, circumstance, or choice.
Love in a Nutshell – June: The Wishing Tree
The sycamore tree in the corner of Maple Lane Park was known to locals as the Wishing Tree. No one knew exactly who started it, but every June, kids and grown-ups alike tied handwritten wishes on strips of colored cloth to its branches.
Most of the notes said things like “I hope I get a dog” or “Help Mom’s bakery stay open.” But this year, tucked among them, someone had written:
“I wish I could tell him I forgive him.”
Ben Whitaker noticed it while helping Owen Bakewell hang streamers for the park’s Father’s Day picnic. He stared at the wish for a long moment, the kind of stillness that spoke louder than any words.
Owen didn’t ask. He just handed Ben another strip of cloth and quietly tied one of his own to the tree. It read:
“Thank you for the one hug that changed everything.”
Later, Aimee Little wandered by, having just finished a small flyer for the “Fathers of Faith” barbecue. She noticed Ben sitting under the tree, legs crossed, sketchbook open but untouched.
“Penny for your thoughts?” she asked, trying not to sound like she’d been looking for him.
Ben gave a half-smile. “What do you do when the person you miss most never knew how to show love the right way?”
Aimee sat beside him. “Maybe… you show it anyway. In your own way. For the both of you.”
That’s when the mystery started. A little boy named Leo Jensen had tied a drawing to the tree—a scribbly picture of a man in overalls and glasses with the words “MY DAD IS IN HEAVEN BUT I MISS HIM LOTS” written in crayon.
The thing was… Leo never knew his dad. His mother, Elise, had always said he passed away before Leo was born. But something in the picture caught Clara’s eye—the initials P.J. stitched on the overalls.
A trip to the archives, a few questions at the diner, and a rummage through the old Maple Lane Yearbooks unearthed something unexpected.
Leo’s father had been Peter Jameson, a local handyman and gifted carpenter who disappeared after a mental health crisis in 2018. Many thought he’d left town, but he’d actually spent time in a care facility upstate, passing quietly a year later with no known next of kin.
Ben quietly tracked down Peter’s few remaining belongings and returned a small wooden toy truck to Leo—unfinished, but beautifully carved.
“He made this for you,” Ben said, kneeling to Leo’s level. “He was trying to find his way back to you.”
Leo clutched the truck with both hands. “Then I’ll finish it with my grandpa.”
And there, right there in that moment, was a nutshell of love: imperfect, restored, handed down.
Scripture Reflection:
Malachi 4:6 (ESV)
“And he will turn the hearts of fathers to their children and the hearts of children to their fathers…”
Journal Prompt:
Who has been a father figure in your life—by blood or by heart? What piece of their legacy lives on in you today?
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