The Orange Tree and the Giver
“Pick me, Pick me,” called the oranges on my neighbor’s tree.
Bigger than softballs, more orange than a frozen Creamsicle, they were tempting.
What if someone sees me, what if I ask and he says no, and views me as a beggar?
I remembered two famous quotes, “Tis better to give than to receive”, and
\“Ask not what your country can do for you, but what you can do for your country.”
They seemed like they were from wise people. What should I do?
They called again to remind me how sweet real orange tree oranges are.
I knocked on the door, then waited, then rang the doorbell.
An elderly man, thin, white, old, maybe 80,
stared at me with a look that demanded , “What do you want?”
“Mmmy name is Mike, and I live around the corner from you” I stammered,
“and I am wondering if I can have two of the beautiful oranges on your tree?”
He thought for a moment, then looked me over, then responded with a half smile,
“Sure, help yourself.”
I ran home for a bag, eager to pick off my reward.
I picked half a dozen, some high, some low, a few with leaves attached,
so I could paint pictures to honor them and honor the giver.
I painted pictures of them with little birds flying around them, admiring their beauty.
I made a thank you card and left it for him, and hope to see him again.
So here I am, happy with my oranges, happy to help someone be generous,
and happy to share the man’s wealth with you in words and images
and slices from oranges bigger than softballs,
and sweeter than frozen Creamsicles.