On December 10, 1997, a young woman climbed 180 feet to a 4-by-6-foot platform in an ancient redwood tree. Julia Hill was participating in a sit-in, a strategy adopted by environmentalists to bring attention to the destruction of the old growth forests that clean our air, nurture our soil, support the diversity of life, and inspire awe in humankind. At the time of Julia Hill’s climb, only 3 percent of our country’s ancient redwood ecosystem survived. Luna, a 1,000-year-old Western Redwood anchored to a steep slope above the town of Stafford in Humboldt County, California, was one of those survivors.

Maxxam Inc.’s Pacific Lumber Company managed the land surrounding Luna. The company’s reckless clearcutting of old growth trees in the area had already devastated much of the area, leaving its slopes barren, polluted, and vulnerable to flooding and mudslides. On New Year’s Eve of 1996, the hillside above Stafford, saturated by heavy rains and denuded of the trees that once protected it, collapsed, causing a torrent of trunks, branches, rocks, and mud to gather in a landslide that destroyed eight homes and damaged others. Many of Stafford’s residents found themselves homeless. Miraculously no one was killed.

Hill chose Butterfly as her forest name, and soon the world would come to know her as Julia Butterfly Hill. Born in Missouri, Hill spent the first decade of her life traveling the nation’s heartland in a camper with her parents and two brothers. Her father, a traveling minister, and her mother lived by their ideals and taught their children to do the same. They found joy in helping others, putting Jesus first, others second, and their own needs last. They revered nature and showed respect for a power larger than humankind. They taught their children to be curious and questioning. The Hills instilled in their children the ideal that we are only as good as our word and that our words must be met by our actions.

When Julia was 13, the family settled in Arkansas, and she fell into a more traditional path. She developed important friendships, studied, had fun, and became an average teenager. After high school she studied business management in college. She opened a restaurant and night club. Driving home from work one evening, her car was struck by a drunk driver. This devastating accident almost killed her. Instead it gave her new life. Following a year in rehabilitation where she had to relearn how to speak and walk, Hill realized “my whole life had been out of balance . . . I had been obsessed by my career, success, and material things. The crash woke me up to the importance of the moment, and doing whatever I could to make a positive impact on the future.”

She headed West, uncertain of the future but certain she had a calling. “When I entered the majestic cathedral of the redwood forest for the first time, my spirit knew it had found what it was searching for. I dropped to my knees and began to cry because I was so overwhelmed by the wisdom, energy and spirituality housed in this holiest of temples.” Hill now saw her job as protecting more than a community of people. She committed herself to protecting life in all forms. As one friend put it, Julia Butterfly took a stand by sitting.

Living alone on a platform came with a variety of challenges. For the first months, while the weather was decent, she received occasional visits from fellow activists. It required her to develop clever methods to shower and use the toilet. At bedtime, they rested their bodies on the tiny platform as best they could, arms and feet dangling high above the forest floor. For the most part, however, Hill’s time in the tree was solitary, with Luna as her primary companion. She climbed Luna’s limbs for exercise and diversion. The elevation offered spectacular views of the landscape’s beauty and the logging company’s destruction.

Winter arrived with rain and snow that drenched her to the bone and challenged her resolve. Then came storms with winds that broke branches off the trees and tossed the platform up and down and side to side. Hail pounded her and snow crept into the folds of her clothing. Hill clenched her teeth, she clenched her eyes, and she clenched her muscles. She thought “if I just clenched hard I would hold on to my life.” A gust of 90 mph threw her across the platform into a tarp, and a voice said to her, “Think of the trees in the storm.” The trees that defy the storm, trying too hard to stand up strong and straight, are the ones that break. Those that bend and flow with the elements survive.

Hill prayed, “Okay, if this is what I’m meant to do, then please creator use me, allow me to be a vessel.” She gave herself to her surroundings. She learned from Luna. She learned from the storm. She learned to give up attachments. Rather than allow the  feeling of despair to overwhelm her, Julia Butterfly recreated herself and began not just to survive but to thrive.

On the ground below, Pacific Lumber used every method imaginable to force Hill down. Executives threatened her with arrest for trespassing and for staging an unlawful demonstration. Crews set up blockades to prevent the resupplying of food. Loggers cut the lines used to hoist food and supplies to the platform. Employees blew into bull horns and whistles to create a din to drive Hill mad. The company continued their logging activities, carelessly felling branches and trees that might fall anywhere on anyone. They sent a helicopter that hovered menacingly and dangerously above Luna. Pacific Lumber broke laws, using life-threatening and unconscionable actions to restart the clear-cutting process in the name of profitability. Life in Luna became a battle not just for the tree’s life, but for Hill’s sanity and safety. She responded with love, singing to the loggers, asking about their families, and sharing stories of her own.

Other moments of compassion punctuated her journey. Kalani, a member of the security team hired to starve her out of her tree,  provided unexpected empathy and support. Fellow activists risked arrest to resupply her with food, water, and other needs. She conducted interviews, wrote poetry, sent letters, studied, and learned. She prayed for guidance, safety, and love and in the process became a reluctant celebrity for the environmental movement. At the core of it all was Luna, her constant companion, whose resilience and strength of spirit helped her keep whole.

It took 738 days for Pacific Lumber to recognize they were dealing with a force more powerful than money, but finally the conviction, passion, and compassion of Julia Butterfly Hill forced the company to commit to saving Luna and Luna’s family. Approximately three acres of ancient growth redwoods would be left where they had thrived for at least 1,000 years, an oasis that offers the promise of continuation of the species.

On December 18, 1999, Hill’s feet touched earth for the first time in more than two years. Back on ground, she felt a responsibility to continue giving to what she saw as “a hurting world . . . constantly wanting and needing my help with everything they cared about.” It is difficult to understand what her sacrifice entailed. Selflessness. Toughness. A belief in something larger than oneself. That she and Luna both survived might be seen as a miracle. Their story is proof that love conquers hate and that violence can be overwhelmed with peace. “Find your tree!” she encourages all of us. Indeed, her actions help each of us to see that we too have the opportunity to make a difference in the world.