The Orchard Keeper Who Never Stopped Singing

Every morning at 5:45, before the Texas sun crests the pecan groves outside Fredericksburg, 87-year-old Margaret Townsend steps onto her back porch with a cup of black coffee and sings a hymn. Not quietly. Not under her breath. She sings full-voiced into the dawn — the same practice she started as a young bride in 1962.

Her neighbors know the routine. Her grandchildren have recorded it. The pecans, she jokes, grow better for it.

What strikes visitors most isn't Margaret's voice — it's her trees. The orchard she and her late husband Harold planted fifty years ago still produces abundantly. Arborists have told her the root systems run so deep that even the brutal drought of 2011 barely touched them. The trees were planted well, watered faithfully, and they have never stopped bearing fruit.

Margaret will tell you the secret isn't horticulture. "I've been planted too," she says, tapping her worn Bible. "Same soil, same water, same faithful God. Harold's gone, my knees ache, and I can't drive at night anymore. But the sap is still rising."

The psalmist knew this kind of flourishing — the righteous planted in the house of the Lord, still bearing fruit in old age, still full of green life. It is not the vigor of youth that sustains them. It is the depth of their roots in the faithfulness of the Most High, who gives us reason to sing every morning we are given.