by Suzanne Lewis

Suzanne Lewis (she/her) graduated from Rider College in 1982 with a degree in Accounting. Since then she has been working in the nonprofit sector. She was an Assistant Controller at American Friends Service Committee (1985-2002) and Director of Accounting/Controller at Science History Institute (2003-2022). Suzanne has returned to AFSC in 2022 as she winds down towards retirement. Suzanne has also served as Treasurer for FACTS (Folk Arts Cultural Treasures) from 2011 to 2015.  FACTS is a K-8 elementary school that serves students of diverse racial, ethnic, linguistic and cultural backgrounds from the City of Philadelphia. After spending 10 years as a caregiver, she is learning how to navigate through life as a widow. Suzanne currently resides in the Germantown section of Philadelphia. She enjoys yoga, reading, and her 3 cats.

Last winter, a year after my husband died, I looked out my kitchen window and saw a large squirrel nest high up in a tree. I thought to myself, “Look what that squirrel has done. The engineering and planning that went into building that nest. It’s sturdier than a skyscraper!”

All winter I’d see that nest and marvel at the workmanship of the squirrel. Spring arrived, the trees got their leaves back, the nest was hidden from my view. Summer brought strong storms with damaging winds. I’d look out the window and hope that the nest was still there.

Fall came and I started searching for the nest. The tree lost all its leaves, and the nest was gone. I was sorry that the nest did not make it through summer. Just like my husband, it was gone forever. Habitually I kept looking for the nest and was sorry that it was gone.

Then a few days before Thanksgiving, I looked out the window a bit more to the left. To my utter surprise, I saw the nest. High up in the tree and sturdy as ever. I was filled with great joy and danced around the kitchen.

I had been looking at the wrong tree.