The Changing of Seasons

Climbing, studying, feeling, and finally picking the perfect pear for the two of them, was what Johnny, day-dreamed about and looked forward to everyday even during class. Sitting in class listening to Mr. Lee, while staring down at his paper, pencil tapping on the desk waiting for the bell to ring. His anticipation for 3:30 was almost unbearable. Unbearable because he had a meeting with a pear tree, but not just any pear tree, it was the one which grew deep green leaves with pears that had a flicker of red and orange reflecting off of their favorite lake. This meeting between the two went on everyday, seven days a week.

Jumping on his bike and racing down Cedarfield street going south, then crossing over to oak drive, with a steep hill coming up ahead in 3,2,1. He knew this route like the back of his hand. Sometimes he took that steep hill with his arms out to his side smiling all of the way down it. His dad would kill him if he knew, but he didn’t care.

Johnny, was not your typical seven year old oh no, most boys his age were rushing home to play video games, watch television, or even play with friends. The typical six year old behavior was not in his cards. Finally he arrives and immediately he jumps off his bike and they embrace. No boy could ever love their mom more than he loved his.

“How was school buddy boy?”. That was the nickname his mom had given him. “It was ok”’he replied. Then with a second embrace they began to sing, laugh, play games, and as always she would lift him up High enough where he would grab the second limb from the bottom. Johnny, would then pull his legs up and wrap them around the limb, while maneuvering upward into a sitting position.

He would point at each pear, while his mom shouted, “too little”, or “ not ripe enough”. Eventually the perfect pear was picked and after tossing it down to her, he would lower himself down into a dangling position and just let go of the branch. They would then sit and share the fruits of his labor and watch the sun shine down over the water.

Spending time under this particular pear tree was a their special time together. It had been for sometime now. It wasn’t the perfect place, or a perfect tree to others but to them it was not only perfect but a special place. From the time he was still in her belly until now this has and will always be where they could find one another.

Shortly thereafter they would say their good byes with a long drawn out hug which was always hard but they both knew tomorrow was only a short time away, in which they would once be together again. Waking up in the mornings were the hardest to do without feeling the soft gentleness of her hand push his hair from out of his face followed by a sweet kiss to the forehead.

“ We don’t dwell on what we don’t have, but we charish what we do have”, is what his mom would remind him of when he would cry in her arms some days. They both knew what they had was their special moments and their time was precious. She always knew how to explain things to him in a way that he could understand.

Everyone has their own way of finding their happiness and this was theirs. The tree was a symbol, a symbol of change. Just like this tree would change from season to season, their lives and the way they could love each other had changed. A pear can be sweet and bitter so can loving and losing someone that once was your entire world. Even though the pear will ripen and fall from its tree, the tree itself remains strong and continues to grow just like our faith.

Faith was what they had left. Faith in each other and faith in their love. Believing in something or someone that was no longer present the way they use to be, but now only felt in our hearts, prayers, and our minds.