A Peach and a Smile
Driving to work today I passed the
local plant nursery where my wife
likes to buy flowers, shrubs, fruit
trees, etc. That jogged my
memory that now is the time for
spraying peach trees to prevent
worms in the fruit months from
now. I would need to get the
proper insecticide for my wife’s
little orchard.
Then the thought came of a time,
decades ago, when my grandma
would take her little grandsons out
to the large, peach tree behind her
Mississippi farmhouse.
(Sometimes it was to get a switch!)
But, sometimes it was to lovingly
peel a juicy, sweet peach and hand
it to us, with a strange, distant look
in her eyes, as she enjoyed the
tree’s fruit with us. (why do I
remember that?!)
Many decades before those days, a
Swede immigrant in Pennsylvania
saw a newspaper ad that a fortune
could be made with a peach
orchard in Citronelle, Alabama.
Besides, it was warmer there in the
winter, most likely! So, off they
moved to Alabama, Papa John and
his immigrant family. Just across
the state line, in Mississippi, was a
young highland lass, Sarah Isabelle
McLeod, whom heaven had
evidently arranged for young
George Cornelson to meet.
Romance bloomed and my
grandson is the 6th generation
from Papa John’s. But, the peach
orchard had a killing freeze one
year. The trees died, but love
survived. Papa George married
Mama Sally and moved to the
farm which I loved as a child.
But, I have to wonder, was that
one, lone peach tree behind the
Cornelson farmhouse a survivor
from that freeze? Was that distant
look in Mama Sally’s eye thinking
back to a time when a youthful
George gave her a peach tree as a
token of his heart? Will I ever
again eat peach jam, my favorite,
on toast, without wondering this?!
(I’d love a cutting from that tree,
but it is long gone, sadly.)
Or, was grandma just thinking that
her mean little grandsons deserved
the worm she had seen in the
peach she handed us? My twisted
mind runs in warped meanderings.
But, my wife, Melanie, (originally
from the Peach State?!) just called
and reminded me to help her get
the trees sprayed this week. God
moves in mysterious ways, indeed.
Love does take on many forms.
(Sometimes, I have wondered if
the peach is descended from the
tree guarded in the Garden?!)
Jerry Cornelson 03.10.09