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The Branch That Thought It Was A Tree
("Someone, in some organization, wrote the following message on loyalty. Someone in a big motion picture company read it — somewhere — and sent it on to the head of that company. A little later, a copy of it was sent to the head of every department in that company, with a request that it be read by every member of each department. Tt was read by every member. It is worth reading — that is why we are reprinting it.")
IT HAD every right to be proud of itself — this grafted branch. In the blooming season, its flowers were large and the creamy petals red on the edges, while the other blossoms on the tree were small and scraggly, and a dirty-white.
When autumn changed the flowers to fruit, the apples on this branch were big, deep-red with hearts as white as snow. And the branch, seeing this, was swollen with pride. "Why should I remain a part of this poor tree ? I give more fruit than the rest of the branches combined. I will be a tree unto myself, that men may know me, and give me credit for my fruits."
The next time a strong wind blew, the branch strained and pulled and twisted, and finally tore itself from the tree. The tree bled at the wound a little time, but the gardener came along and grafted another branch in the place.
But the branch that tore itself away died very quickly. It did not realize that the sap— the life-blood that gave it health and strength to produce — came from the roots of the tree. The branch could not see that because the tree had other branches, it was able to drink in more sunshine and rain — that all branches drew life from the soil and air and gave it gladly, that the one branch could flourish and produce much fruit. So, the grafted branch that thought it could be a tree, died. . The tree lived on.
There are men who draw the very life-blood of their inspiration from the organization of which they are a part. They produce great works and are blind to the sources of their power. They know that what they produce is better than is done by the men at the next desk or the next branch — better, perhaps, than any man in the whole organization can make with his hands and brain.
Happy is the man who can see, in the result of his efforts, more than an isolated personal achievement — who can view the organization of which he is a part, as a whole — who can see down to the root of it, and know that from these he draws the
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