I Wish I Could Be an Apple


I’ve spent the last few weeks harvesting my garden, buying produce from local growers, and picking fruits from various local “pick-your-own” orchards.  In that same time frame I’ve also frozen, canned, and baked much of that produce.  It’s a wonderful time of year as I see my cupboards and freezer fill up, thanks to a spring and summer of planting, weeding, and watering that has paid off.

Every year I try something new.  This year I attempted to grow watermelons and cantaloupes in my garden.  I was happily surprised and rewarded with two sizeable sugar baby watermelons, and enough cantaloupe to supply my husband with fruit for breakfast and as an evening snack (he likes to use a half-canteloupe as a dish and fill it with strawberry ice cream).

For a new adventure, my daughters and I also went raspberry picking for the first time.  All was going well until I came face to face with a Black and Yellow Argiope–the most enormous spider I have ever seen in nature.  All 1 and 1/2 inches of her was placidly hanging on her two-foot web between two raspberry bushes.  This signalled the end of my picking; shuddering and shivering, I couldn’t get out of that raspberry patch faster if the spider had been chasing me!   Well, maybe if it had actually chased me…

It was after arriving home with three quarts of the luscious, ruby fruit that I realized how much I have in common with raspberries.  Raspberries are impatient.  They want to be taken care of right away or they begin to grow fur.  They bruise and bleed quite easily.  There’s a reason why they come in shallow packages at the market–it takes very little pressure to crush them, and just the weight of a few on top will turn them into raspberry soup.

Over my 40 years I have developed a stronger “skin” than a raspberry, but I am most definitely impatient, sometimes growing a moldy disposition when forced to wait.  I can withstand pressure, but when enough is enough, I become a human vichyssiose.  I wish I could be more like an apple.

My parents have a Macintosh tree in their backyard.  Just a few days ago my girls and I decided to pick as many as we could reach.  The plan is to make applesauce, apple butter, and, of course, pies.  The very next day I came down with a cold, therefore I was not about to start canning or baking.  As I write this, the apples sit quietly, patiently, on my back porch.  They are willing to wait until I’m ready for them.  They aren’t so tender that they attract fruit flies, nor are they anywhere near to growing their own fur coats.  Some may be slightly bruised from overzealous picking methods (“Hey mom, I’m going to climb up and shake the branches so the apples drop!”).  Still they remain strong, even under the pressure of being four or five deep in bags!  And when it comes time to finally turn them into sauce and butter, it will take considerable time, heat, and strength to crush them.

This past spring I planted two apple trees in our yard:  a Northern Spy and a Macintosh.   It will be a few years before I’m able to harvest any fruit from them, but that’s okay.   I can be patient.  I’m learning to be more like an apple every day.

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About Carol R. Fielding

I'm a happily married wife and home schooling mom of three amazing daughters. I am a freelance writer and have been published in various books over the past fifteen years. My most recent freelance job was "Extreme Bible Facts," a book for kids, and was published by Worthy Publishing and released in December, 2011, exclusively in Walmart stores. Currently, I write for The Corry Journal, the newspaper for the Corry, Pennsylvania, area.
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7 Responses to I Wish I Could Be an Apple

  1. Amy Mapes says:

    It’s very nice, Carol. A good start for a daily devotational book. It isn’t always easy to publically identify weaknesses in ourselves. Now to figure how to become more like an apple….

  2. Bruce Fielding says:

    Cool. It is great to see your thoughts put together in such creative and thoughtful method.

  3. Robin L Brumagin says:

    I will be looking forward to reading more of your blogs. It was an insightful read.

  4. This was a lovely posting, Carol, and I’m so grateful to learn of all your writing adventures– you have a real voice here, and I know your writing is going to touch many hearts. And as someone who loves to pick wild raspberries…. and who also found my mind wandering to how much this activity was like to much that I did in my larger life, I could readily identify with all you said here. In fact, I once gave a ‘keynote address’ at our High School at Home Conference on ‘Everything I ever learned about homeschooling, I learned while picking wild raspberries’. Thanks for starting this venue– I know it’s going to be marked as a ‘favorite’ by many!

  5. Paul says:

    Indeed … meditative! While some days it is good to be apples, it left me thinking God appreciates and has a place for it all — even raspberries. After all, it is said the galaxy tastes like raspberries and smells like rum. Astronomers found the galaxy is filled with vast clouds of Ethyl Formate — the taste of raspberries which smells like rum. Now why would God do that? Sometimes I think just for the fun of it. Apples, raspberries and rum — all have a place in creation! Your meditation got me thinking about this. Thanks for the stimulating thought.

  6. Lynda Dietz says:

    Although raspberries usually get the immediate attention, we all rely on the apples in our lives to be the sturdy, steady ones. Good word picture, Carol!

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