The Strength Is In the Roots

It’s easy to get caught up in growth.
In stretching taller.
Expanding wider.
Reaching for more.

But what holds a tree together isn’t what rises above the ground.
It’s what’s buried deep underneath it—
the quiet strength no one notices at first,
but the only thing that will matter when the weight comes.

Because when the fruit finally arrives,
it doesn’t make the tree stronger.
It makes it heavier.
And without roots deep enough to carry that weight,
what once looked beautiful will collapse under what it was never built to hold.

The strength is in the roots.
Not in the branches.
Not in the blossoms.
Not even in the reach.

Strength isn’t proven by how high something grows.
It’s proven by whether it can bear the weight of what it was made to carry.
It’s proven by whether it can stand when the storms come through.

Roots carry what the eye can’t see.
They hold steady when the seasons change.
They bear the pressure long before anything visible ever grows.

And when the harvest finally comes,
the world doesn’t see the roots—
but it sees the tree still standing.

That’s what matters now.
Not just reaching higher.
Not just moving faster.

Rooting deeper.
Strengthening what no one talks about,
but everything depends on.

Because when it matters most,
it won’t be the height of the branches that tells the story.
It will be the strength of the roots.

—Angela

the voice beneath Daughter, Unwritten.