The tree that is beside the running water is fresher and gives

Hear the words of Saint Teresa of Avila, a soul of fire and devotion, who once declared: “The tree that is beside the running water is fresher and gives more fruit.” This saying is not merely of gardens and orchards, but of the soul, the spirit, and the life of mankind. For as the tree draws life from the waters, so do we draw strength, wisdom, and love from the living streams that nourish us. Without them, we wither; with them, we flourish, giving shade and sustenance to those around us.

The tree is the human being, standing rooted in the soil of life. Alone, it may endure for a time, but without constant nourishment it becomes dry, its branches brittle, its fruit sparse. The running water is the source of renewal—faith, knowledge, love, or community—ever flowing, ever replenishing. Saint Teresa, a mystic and teacher, spoke not only of orchards but of souls. She knew that a spirit fed by the waters of prayer and virtue becomes a mighty tree, fresher, more vibrant, more fruitful for the world.

Consider the wisdom of history. When the monks of medieval Europe tended their monasteries, they did not hoard their learning. Beside the running water of discipline and devotion, they preserved knowledge, cultivated medicine, and sowed literacy. Their cloisters became like groves of fruitful trees, feeding a world that would otherwise have languished in darkness. Because they drank deeply from the flowing stream of the divine and of learning, their work bore fruit for generations yet unborn.

But where the water is absent, even the noblest tree suffers. Reflect on civilizations that have cut themselves off from wisdom, from morality, from unity. Their branches once reached high, their leaves once cast wide shade. Yet without the living stream, corruption and arrogance dried their roots. Rome, mighty and unshaken, fell not to sword alone, but to thirst of the spirit. Its trees bore no fruit, its orchards withered, and what remained became dust.

The meaning is clear: we must seek the running water. Do not be content with stagnant pools or dried-up wells. Refresh your soul in learning, in truth, in prayer, in compassion. Those who stand near the flowing streams of love and wisdom will remain fresher, unbroken even in times of drought, and their lives will yield fruit in abundance—acts of kindness, works of courage, legacies of hope.

The lesson is thus: tend your roots. Plant yourself not in barren soil, but beside waters that nourish. Read deeply, pray often, seek the company of the wise, and serve the needs of others. In these streams you will find renewal. And do not hoard the fruit of your life—share it with the hungry, for the tree does not eat its own harvest. In giving, you prove the strength of your roots and the vitality of your branches.

Practical actions must follow this wisdom. Begin each day by drinking from a stream that refreshes you—whether it be scripture, meditation, noble words, or the quiet of dawn. Keep company with those who lift you higher, not with those who drain your spirit. Extend your shade to the weary, your fruit to the hungry, your fragrance to the sorrowful. In this way, you will not only stand tall but will become a source of life to the world around you.

Thus, remember the words of Saint Teresa: the tree beside the running water is not only fresher, but it gives more fruit. Let your life be that tree, rooted in truth and nourished by living streams. For when the seasons pass, and your harvest is gathered, it will be said that you did not wither in the heat, nor break in the storm, but stood radiant, fruitful, and enduring—because you lived beside the waters that never cease to flow.