The Symbolism of The Girl Under The Walnut Tree

By Hannah Cedars | The Appalachian Sage

In Appalachian folklore, the symbolism of the walnut tree runs deep, often tied to truth, memory, and the awakening of what’s been hidden in the soul. There she was, 14 years old and standing under a Walnut Tree. What did it mean symbolically?

She was learning symbolism in school in her literature class… There are some stories that settle in your bones before you ever realize they’re shaping who you are. This one’s about roots, and how sometimes they twist through joy and pain all at once. It’s about the kind of strength that grows quietly, the way wildflowers do in the cracks. So pour yourself a cup of tea, pull up a chair on the porch, and sit with me a spell. I want to tell you about The Girl Under the Walnut Tree. This is dedicated to: All The Black Sheep Born Into Families Across this Globe….

The Girl Under the Walnut Tree

A Story About Roots, Rejection, and Rising Anyway

She was just a young girl standing under a walnut tree at the edge of her family’s land,
gathering fallen nuts into a basket she had brought down to the tree with her…all while the autumn sun laid stripes across the field. Little did she know that the symbolism of that day would stay with her the rest of her life.

Across the fence line, Lester —a tall, older, well-worn farmer from a lifetime of honest work — was mowing hay.  He was a well-respected older farmer in the valley and if not on Sunday, you’d always see him in denim overalls and a white shirt. Sunday was his dress-up day… Always well-presentable in public.
He noticed her, slowed his tractor, and cut the engine.
Dust settled in the air as he stepped down, wiped the sweat from his brow,
and leaned his elbow on the wooden fence rail between them.

“What’re you doin’ over here, Carol?” he asked gently.  Lester wasn’t much for words, and it was certainly a big deal for him to get down off his tractor while working to talk to anyone.  She had gotten used to him calling her Carol at church, and even though it wasn’t her name, she had a couple older folks (even her grandmother’s neighbor)  who called her Carol and Carolyn, so she kindly answered to whatever the elderly folk wanted to call her….

She told him she was “picking walnuts” — “something to do”, she said….”I wanna learn how to make tinctures.” 

Lester watched her for a long, thoughtful moment… the way neighbors do when they’ve seen more than they ever say out loud.

Then he said the twelve words that would echo through her entire lifetime:

“You ain’t like them. ….(As he tipped his forehead toward her family home up the field)
You must be the black sheep of that family.  (He smiled)
Keep on doin’ what you’re doin’, Carol.”   and with that he made a turn and said he had to get back to mowin’…..

He waved to her as he drove on down the field with that big-brimmed straw hat glowing warm in the sunlight…    She was left asking herself, “hmmm,  was that a compliment or what did he mean by that?”  “Does he know they don’t like me? Maybe….”   He knew her Daddy and whole family well, they helped each other in farming.  They were like family… Yet, he felt safe enough to say what he said…?????   It left her speechless but searching for clarity. Had he recognized her mother’s bitterness and her Dad’s shortness with her in the barn? ??? Where did he figure out that they treated her different?

He didn’t know her heart.
In fact, Lester didn’t know the coldness she faced inside that house.
He didn’t know how her mother’s affection skipped over her like she didn’t even exist.
But somehow — somehow — he spoke straight into a silence she’d been drowning in.

And in that moment, she realized she wasn’t crazy for feeling unloved. He noticed it too.
She wasn’t imagining things.
Someone else saw it too.  Maybe he picked up on it when the whole family helped harvest his tobacco.  He was a picky man, and it was a major that he opened up with her like he did… Nonetheless, she now realized that

Someone else noticed.
Lester else saw the mask.
Someone else saw her as valuable…more than her own family did.

And that was enough to keep her believing at 14 years old that she wasn’t unlovable, she wasn’t bad because she loved to learn, loved to read, and dreamed of succeeding one day with her own business ….— she was simply different, in a powerful way no one else in her family recognized.

His acknowledgement words became a lifeline and it was kind of ironic, standing under that old Walnut tree that day…. Ya see, country folks always believed walnut trees had a way of drawing buried things into the light. Their deep roots, dark hulls, and sharp scent were said to pull out the truth a person had been carrying in silence — the kind that sits heavy on the heart until it finally asks to be seen.

That’s exactly what happened under that old walnut tree. It was as if the tree itself reached down, brushed away the fog, and nudged me toward the truth I had quietly dared to believe my whole life — that my family was different from me, and they knew it. They always sensed something in me they didn’t recognize or understand.

But Lester…

Lester saw it without hesitation. He named what they never could: the gentleness, the knowing, the depth, the way my spirit moved differently. Under the walnut’s branches — in that place where truth rises to the surface whether you’re ready or not — he recognized what I had spent years tiptoeing around. And in that moment, I felt something I had never felt inside my own family line: the relief of finally being seen for who I truly was..

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Forty-Five Years and a Lifetime Later

Time passed and life rolled on, ….the way life does.

Years passed.
Life happened — marriages, homes both big and small, a son, grandchildren, joys, sorrows, careers, travel worldwide, and the long winding road only a woman with grit can survive.

She grew up.
Brenda married, divorced, remarried.
She raised a son and spent several years mothering a stepson.
Grandchildren came into the world that she didn’t get to spend time with like she wanted too.
She lived in big homes and small homes, mobile homes, mountain homes and quiet valleys.
Love was found, lost, and searched for again.

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And then, at 59 years old, while building a barn, barndo offices, and new home from scratch,
she found herself and her husband of 20 years living temporarily in an RV, a choice they had made in the early beginnings of buying the property and planning the build…. It wasn’t supposed to last as long as it had lasted, though…..  She had once again ran into a brick wall that she hadn’t planned on after the loan approval was completed….  So, she had to find ways of working herself out of the situation……

She had to build momentum and she did have the drive to do so….drive that would catapult her past the wall she had been faced with..— In fact, she had more ambition inside her little finger than the entire square footage of that RV, and more wisdom than anyone ever gave her credit for.

Brenda’s marriage was collapsing under years of silence, lies, and cheating on her.
Her health had taken hit after hit.
Sadly, her heart was carrying the weight of decades of being misunderstood, unloved,
lied about, mistreated, and underestimated.

But this time in her life, something was different:

Although, the girl under the walnut tree was still inside her, and still carrying those words like a lantern:

“You ain’t like them. Keep on doin’ what you’re doin’, Carol.”

That tiny spark of validation carried her through the hardest years — even through a 20-year marriage filled with silence, emotional neglect, cheating, lying, and heartbreak.

Eventually, she reached a moment of truth:
If she didn’t build herself a future, nobody would. Her many years of illness had taken her from her career. She had healed enough to do a few things and she had to learn how to do them.

She knew her time on this planet was limited and she needed to make the most of the time she had left….So, she decided to prove to herself that she could succeed without anyone partnering with her….She could do this without needing a man to help her…..and it would be all online, working from her little RV in the middle of nowhere.

Brenda knew she had a variety of skills already; she had decades of valuable experience. So, next was to awaken all her assets..… The girl wasn’t at all how her own parents had painted her to be….and she had one last chance to prove it.
She wasn’t broken.  Brenda yearned for love, creating, togetherness, family, team effort, honesty, loyalty, understanding, and fun. Moreover, she knew full well that she deserved a better life, smiles, humor, loyalty, warm conversation, & understanding….

She was different, yes, but in a good way —
and Lester had told her so many decades ago… No longer did she have time to waste…..It was TIME to build her own empire, her own dreams, and her own path…..No more waiting on a man to build it for her while she was sick and bedfast…. She was well enough to do something herself.

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Awakening To The Symbolism Of That Walnut Tree So Many Years Ago

That night, in that tiny RV,
she reached rock bottom — spiritually, emotionally, physically.
No one came to save her.
No one checked on her.

So she made a choice:

If she could rise again and the good Lord allow her, healthwise, she would save herself and she would carve her own new reality….   She would build herself a safe spot, from all those that had treated her like a ‘third wheel’ all her life….

Brenda began learning everything she could —weeks, then months went by with consistent 16 hr days learning, reading, listening, designing, building, funneling, etc..….. the focus was business ideas, blogging, online shops, graphic designs, books, herbs, storytelling, and the latest tech —
brick by digital brick, lesson by lesson, she would build, fall, and get up again…. She kept marching through the trenches of all the new technology ….. Brenda was building her own empire that belonged solely to her and yes, she was a Nana while learning…..

She wrote.
That woman created a huge online presence
Oh, she was good at branding.
She learned how to sell online.
and, my, how she could design fantastic products and most of all, she gave back in a way that helped others that faced the same adversities that she endured.

That woman learned to funnel all of her projects into one beautiful result.
She shared stories. She took advantage of all that AI had to offer in the latest technology fields.

Brenda built a dream business from a situation most folks would have never even tried.
Not because she was lucky, but because she was determined. But, because she wasn’t afraid to fail and she showed up every day.

Lester’s words were the quiet engine behind it all.

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The Black Sheep Became The Chosen One

Today, she has turned that ‘old rotten apple cart’ around…. Her future belongs to her now and no one, including her husband, her family, nor her best friends have a clue as to the status that she has gained in the digital world online. She operates under pen names on purpose and sets sites for her family to monitor that never shows her true success…. Why? because nothing will show a person how little or how much another thinks of them like staying low key in a competitive world….. She has nothing to say to those that used and abused her…..nothing but gratitude that their dark side helped her to build her light side… No words….

Not to her mother’s coldness.
By no means to a husband’s silence.
Not to the gossip of misinformed family members
nor the whispers of people who never took the time to know her heart.

Not to the arrogant classmates that she grew up with, thinking she was so beneath them….
Not to anyone who decided who she was
before she ever had the chance to show them.

And every single time fear taps her on the shoulder,
every time doubt whispers through the cracks,
every time old wounds try to bruise their way back into her spirit…

she hears him —
clear as the day he leaned on that fence, sweat drying on his brow:

“You ain’t like them.
Keep on doin’ what you’re doin’, Carol.”

Those words spoken decades ago,
have become the backbone of her journey.

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Honoring Lester — Every Single Year

Each year, as her business grows,
as she reaches new annual milestones,
as she builds the life she was always meant to live…

She pulls up at the little credit union where she has her business account and quietly withdraws enough money to buy a wreath for Lester’s grave….and she writes the expense off as expenses for her motivational training coach….. Lester was the best motivational training coach she could have ever found…. He deserved the title… So, therefore, Brenda honors Lester annually.

Quietly.
Gratefully.
Tenderly.

She thanks him for seeing her.
For validating what no one else would.
For giving a lonely 14 year old teenage girl the first hint
that her difference was her strength —
not her curse like her family tried to say….

She visits his grave each year, lays her thin wrinkled hand on his headstone,
and whispers gratitude into the air:

“If not for you, I may have never known my own worth.”

Brenda knew that not a soul in that valley would have ever understood her, but Lester did….Lester saw her….Lester saw them…. He knew…He read them all. In a world where everybody, practically, was drinking ‘the Gardenia family kool-aid, Lester was aware of the coffee in the cupboard and he called it out….

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The Moral of Her Story

What we all need to realize is that:

Titles don’t make someone loving.
Blood doesn’t guarantee loyalty.
A mother isn’t always a mother.
A husband isn’t always a partner.
A neighbor can sometimes see your soul more clearly
than even the people who helped raise you.

Titles don’t make someone kind.
A mother, a father, or any authority figure does not automatically deserve loyalty or emotional reverence if they do not show love.

Love is shown in how we treat people — not in what we’re called.

Hear me out now, I’m not saying to rise in spite of being unloved. I’m saying, to rise because you finally believe your own worth and the fact that you KNOW that you can be loved…

Remember, respect belongs to character —not roles.

and never forget that – Love belongs to actions —not an obligation.

And as for those lonely black sheep? Well, sometimes they grow into shepherds and sometimes they even build empires from the ground up.

In fact, its been proven that the black sheep of the family can often change entire bloodlines
by being brave enough to step out of the old pattern
and create a life of their own choosing.

So, to all those feeling neglected by family,

Dig deep.
Go within.
Build strong.

Because here’s the truth: The black sheep often ends up with the strongest foundation of them all.

If you ever wake up one morning and realize you’re living a life with too little love…
that moment — that exact moment — it’s your cue to start gathering your tools, start seeking your mentors, start digging for knowledge, skills, and then….GO BUILD SOMETHING YOU CAN BE PROUD OF AND BUILD IT YOURSELF….. Hugs to all who understand this difficult, lonely road….You deserve a hug, a prayer, and your own kind of ‘LESTER’ to open your eyes……

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🌿 Reflection from The Appalachian Sage

“One of the hardest lessons to comprehend is,
Those you think are in your wheelhouse can sometimes be your arch enemies.
Much respect and love goes to all the loving parents…..But, don’t fool yourself when it comes to the title of ‘parent’. No title, not even ‘parent,’ guarantees love or understanding.
Pray for discernment… watch the little signs as you walk through life because they’ll always be there…
Know thy enemy — and know they could be the closest to you,
wearing a smile, hair to perfection, and quoting scripture.”
— The Appalachian Sage

About the Author

Hannah Cedars writes from the hills of Kentucky, where she weaves Appalachian memories, nature’s wisdom, and family truth into stories of healing and hope. Through The Appalachian Sage, she shares the strength of rural roots and the quiet power of women who rise above the hard things. Her work honors the land, the ancestors, and the lessons that come from both.

If you enjoy stories like this, you’ll love the other life lessons & memories I’m sharing on The Appalachian Sage. …………And if you’re ever in the mood to browse something pretty, you can stop by my Etsy shop, The Appalachian Sage Shop, where I pour the same love and kindness into each design.