I was a seedling myself at my first Tu Bishvat Seder
Anticipating my 6th birthday as the trees celebrated theirs. 

I took itty bitty sips of four cups of grape juice I didn't like
Spooned foreign fruits onto my paper plate
And joined the high pitched prayer chorus
Of my Hebrew school classmates, all while wondering
Why is there a birthday for the trees?

11 years later, 
I teach in the same Hebrew school classroom
Of mitzvot- good deeds- and the letter Mem.
And my climate-activist self wonders,
What does it mean to be Jewish in the age of climate change?

I think of trees, Tu Bishvat, and Tikkun Olam. 

In the words of the five-year-old I was,
Tikkun Olam means repairing the world. 
Prevalent in American Reform Judaism, 
It is the religious concept behind Jewish social action and education.

It is the link between loving the earth and saving it. 
Between the tree-themed crafts and planted trees,
My first Tu Bishvat Seder to today's State House protests. 

There is a birthday for the trees because they sustain life.
Because their utmost importance to our health- to our world-
Has demanded recognition since the very conception of our calendar-
Demands attention today.  
There is a birthday for the trees to remind us of our responsibility:
Take care of the earth. 

And as our trees are cut, our earth polluted, our seas pulled up against their will, 
What it means to be Jewish in the age of climate change
Becomes synonymous to what it means to be a citizen in this time
As we all now share the responsibility
To celebrate the land we were granted
To protect the beauty we have left
To do Tikkun Olam: together.  

When the Seder finished, 
I tossed my paper plate in the trash and my parents drove me home
And trees floated out of my mind
To be reminded of again when it was the 15th of Shevat once more.

But this year
When the kids all left
When the day was said and done
I walked out into the snow, knelt down on the land 
That called me and planted a seed.
The seed of climate justice.
And I water it- for eternity.