Turning Trees Into Treasure

By Meredith Turner, Director of Communications

As I walked up to his house, which doubles as his workshop, I was welcomed by the smells of sawdust and freshly cut wood. I knocked on the door and was quickly greeted by artist and Saint Michael parishioner Andrew Key. A couple of years ago, Andrew was commissioned by our Rector, Chris Girata, to turn the trees that once shaded our campus into treasures that will adorn our new campus. I had the unique experience of visiting with Andrew at his workshop to get an inside look into what he was working on and his inspiration behind it all.

PRESERVING WOOD FROM THE TREES

In our area of town, we are all too familiar with construction and the inconveniences and sacrifices that come with it. Whether it’s building a new home, constructing new schools, or upgrading infrastructure in Snider Plaza and along the Miracle Mile on Lovers Lane, crews have to clear the land in order to build. And in Saint Michael’s case, one aspect that was just part of the process was removing nine trees. But simply disposing of the trees wasn’t acceptable to Chris and Andrew. They had a vision—a vision to transform the healthy wood from these trees into something meaningful for our new campus.

Before the crews cranked up their chainsaws, Andrew visited each of the nine trees, carefully examining them for sections that could be salvaged for his masterpieces.

What began as a simple, practical request from Chris slowly unfolded into something much more meaningful. Using wood from the trees that had been removed, Andrew knew he could craft a cross for the Parish Hall, per Chris’s request, along with coffee tables and benches. But as he and Chris continued the conversation, the vision grew. And so did the need for more material. That’s when another layer of the story was added: wood from the old Bishop Moore Chapel pews. Soon, it wasn’t just about furniture and the cross, but about creating pieces that would carry deeper significance for the new campus. It was in that moment of possibility that the ideas for the art pieces, a feather and a rose, began to emerge.

INSPIRATION IN THE WORKSHOP

As I stepped foot into Andrew’s workshop and scanned the room, I instantly noticed an eight-foot cross leaning up against the wall to my left, intricately designed cutting boards lined up along a bookcase, and a wooden feather, approximately five feet in length, lying delicately on a worktable in the center of the room. I ran my fingers along the grain of the feather, admiring the intricate craftsmanship and wondering about his inspiration for each of the commissioned pieces—a cross, a rose, and a feather.

THE CROSS

The first piece Andrew completed is the cross that will hang in the new Parish Hall. This cross will anchor the space in the new building in both form and meaning. To create the cross, he sorted through the wood from the pews that once sat in Bishop Moore Chapel, and in doing so, he began to notice drill holes—remnants of screws that had, at one time, held something meaningful in place.

He intentionally chose to keep those marks visible as a way of preserving a piece of Saint Michael’s history. If you get a chance to look closely at the cross, you’ll still see the holes—subtle reminders that this isn’t just newly crafted wood, but material that has already been part of the life of the Church.

THE ROSE

The rose may be the most ambitious piece to craft, and one that he has yet to begin crafting. Andrew was quick to admit it is complicated and unlike anything he’s made before. He described that his inspiration comes from the grandeur of traditional rose windows—the large, circular stained-glass features found in Gothic cathedrals that draw in light and tell stories of the bible through color and form. While his version will take shape in wood rather than glass, that same sense of movement and meaning is guiding the design.

The rose will be installed on the second floor, along the south wall of the Parish Hall Reception Area. Originally, Andrew imagined it much larger, but the realities of the space—specifically the metal framework within the wall—required him to scale it back and adapt. Even so, the vision remains the same. Using wood from the Bishop Moore Chapel pews and the trees from the original campus, he is shaping something that echoes the beauty of these historic windows, and where something meaningful begins to take form.

THE FEATHER

Next, I turned my attention to the feather that will be along a wall in the walkway which connects the parking garage to the church on the basement level. As Andrew began to share the story behind this piece, it took on a deeper meaning. He shared that it was inspired by Psalm 91:4—“He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart”—a verse that has long resonated with him on a personal level. For Andrew, feathers are more than a symbol; they are a quiet reminder of presence and protection. He spoke about the way feathers seem to appear at unexpected moments—once even crossing his path on an unusually windy day—experiences he has come to receive as gentle signs of the love and support from his grandmother.

As he talked about her, it was clear that this piece is as much about legacy as it is about scripture. He described her as a strong, intelligent woman whose life was rooted in service—especially through her work with underprivileged children in Lubbock—and whose faith shaped his own. Summers spent with her left a lasting impression, not only in the time they shared but also in the foundation she quietly built in him. He laughed as he recalled one small but telling memory: she once offered him five dollars to memorize the Lord’s Prayer, a challenge he eagerly accepted as a child.

Standing there in his workshop, with the carved feather resting between us, it felt as though her influence still lingered in the room—woven into the grain, the form, and the meaning of the piece itself.

CONNECTING THE TREES TO THE TREASURES

As we continued talking, I found myself struck by the connection between the stories he was telling and the very material he was shaping. We discussed how fitting it seemed that he now works with wood—these trees that, much like the people who form us, stand firm and endure for generations. There is something steady and foundational about them, something that outlasts us and yet carries our stories forward.

In that moment, it felt clear that this wasn’t just a coincidence of craft. Through these reclaimed trees, he is not only creating something beautiful for Saint Michael, but also continuing a legacy of faith, resilience, and presence—one that, like both wood and memory, is meant to endure.

**This article was written by Meredith Turner and was featured in the 2026 Summer Archangel.