The apple tree's tale
Once upon a time, there was a kind master gardener who offered us a little baby apple tree for the front yard. It was planted and tended, and we anticipated delicious apples , knowing that it would have to grow at least a year or two before it could bear fruit.
Then one day in its second season, a foolish boy from down the block decided to play Jack-be-nimble with our treasured little tree. Leaping as tall as he could, he utterly failed to clear the top of it; in fact he broke it in two, leaving the upper portion, which included every tender branch it had, dangling by a thin strip to the ground.
The householder was very angry, and almost breathed out fire when he returned home that night and discovered what had been done. This little tree had been a gift, and its apples would be truly used for pies, cakes, and applesauce through the years to come. Now it was destroyed through a childish, thoughtless impulse.
However, on careful inspection, there was one little nub below the break--not a branch, but a possibility.
The householder agreed to watch and see. He trimmed the devastated top off clean and watered the remnant of the little tree, and hoped.
That remnant did not die, and the little nub began to send out shoots of green. They were very few and small that first season, but they gave hope. They steadily increased, and multiplied, with time, and though the nub was only meant to be a branch, sending out to one side, it became the support of all that grew out of it, and tilted the little tree-that-came perilously towards the ground with all the weight, so that the householder was required to fetch a cinderblock, and place it on the earth beneath for support, lest the weight cause the roots of the little tree to pull out and topple it. It had exercised such faith and effort, that it could not be left to overbalance and lose all. That block pushed against the trunk held it in place till its own increased strength could hold it well, and now it thrives.
It has been pruned and picked, and cherished. The little tree gives apples, huge ones, in abundance, and feeds its family happily and well. We open jars all winter from its harvest.
God likewise keeps hope in each of us, and patience, knowing we can grow. We bear those fruits in time.
This little tree's best year, we gained 38 pints of applesauce and four gallon bags of dehydrated apple slices. It spreads from side to side rather than round all directions, though we have had to trim it a little to keep it from growing across the sidewalk. In the fall we will trim back the straight-up shooters in the center--I try to keep it sized so that I can reach it all. It is a dwarf tree, but it is now 30 years old.
ReplyDeleteWhat a great story! It serves as a marvelous parable, and that it is a true one makes it all the more remarkable!
ReplyDeleteThe way that tree is leaning reminds me of one at the house we moved to during my senior year in high school (1959). I remember walking up that trunk to reach some of the apples I used to make the best apple butter I've ever had. I don't know what I did that made it so good.
ReplyDeleteDoes that little boy know what he did and what it is now? I hope he knows it carried on.
ReplyDeleteNo, he hasn't lived here in umpteen years. A neighbor suggested this week that we should get rid of it because it's so hard to mow under. No way, no how!
ReplyDeleteMore on the tree later in the season...