Tuesday, June 10, 2008

A Story

So I was visiting one of my many surrogate mothers today and she told me a story that I don't remember. Upon hearing it, I didn't doubt the veracity in the least but I simply hadn't remembered.

When I was eleven years old, she was "baby"sitting me and some other children. She lives out in the hills of east county and several acres of property, there are some good hiking trails, a small orchard and an awesome rock formation pock marked with the small holes used by Indians to grind their food. We where out in the orchard in pursuit of some afternoon snack or other. Tangerines and oranges were out, pomegranates were in. By the time that the pomegranate tree was within sight, there hanged, as if in some faux TV halo, the largest, reddest pomegranate ever to grace the eyesight of the young grazers. As ambitious and self-righteous as I was, I promptly established my claim to THE pomegranate in all the vocal glory that a 4th grader could muster. As I spent the delicate moments after retrieving said pomegranate in a personal celebration my accomplices invested their energies in couring the tree for more fruit, albeit less respectable fruit. I mean, what could possibly top MY pomegranate? Well, they finished their searches, coming away with a few pomegranate each, nothing even close to the size of mine that loomed like a misplaced softball among a sack of golf balls. By the time we got back to the house with our prizes I was planning my glorious presentation and opening of the pomegranate. Certainly, they were all sick of my self-righteousness by that point, but where just as intrigued by my amazing find. I set the stage, preparing the counter, and, knife in hand, sliced into my little heaven, only to be repulsed by the shocking realization that my prize pomegranate contained no seeds. The universal disbelief was slow to set in. How could such a magnificent fruit bear nothing? It had no holes, it's skin was immaculate. No insect or bird had penetrated it. There was no reasonable explanation. Humbling the prideful perhaps? But no "scientific" explanation.

This story I found interesting because a)I know it's absolutely true whether I remember it or not b)I don't know just what the moral of the story is. Don't judge books by their covers? Don't be a dbag or karma will get you? Good things come in little packages? The tree evolved to produce one huge pomegranate to throw off predators who would eat it, find nothing and then give up on the rest of the fruit? (Ok, that's kind of scientific but probably not true) Or maybe it's like that Aesop fable with the fox and the grapes? Or maybe that when you do stupid things, you get by with a little help from your friends (who share their pomegranates)?

1 comment:

Darragh said...

very good things come in small packages