An Apple a Day...

I bought some ugly little apples at the Saturday market.  I confess to doing so because women who were obviously local housewives were snapping them up by the kilo.  These women were obviously on to something, and I wanted to know what it was.

Today I prepared one for my lunch, and upon tasting the first forkful, tears began leaking out of my eyes.  So this is what apples used to taste like.....I was instantly transported to the property where I grew up. near Creagerstown. In my mind's eye I was standing under our old apple tree that was often home to skunks, tent caterpillars, and ragamuffin little girls.

Not large, not shiny, not pretty

That tree produced ugly little apples, too. But if one had the patience to gather them, cull out the totally unusable ones, and excise the worms and the bad spots, what remained provided the essence of apples for pies, cobblers, crisps. Nothing in the supermarket can come close to the "appleness" of those little fruits.  

How I wish I could send each and every one of my friends and family members a bag of these ugly little apples.  I can share photos, and my words, but am frustrated by not being able to adequately convey smells, sounds, and taste. 

 

I was delivered a powerful lesson in that little stepsister of an apple.  I hope I will hold that lesson in my heart for the rest of my life.