Angela Grout, Author
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She asked me to bring a lemon tree over. I carried the lemon tree to give to her as if it were an olive branch.
It wasnt fromme, but I felt a part of its journey,
The kitchen was large and the countertops clearn. So shiny and new.
Inviting me in, eyes filled with wonder.
Carefully I plaved the gift on the counter nearest to me.
She smiled and asked, "What is that for?"
I politely smiled hello, and handed her a card.
It read: "Erma Bomback said that life is a bowl of cherries and if that is the case, then many believe it is the pits, but truth is life is like a lemon tree- Filled with Hope, dreams, and beauty for those willing to see. May you see the sweetness of lemonade as you watch this lemon tree grow."
The sunlight came through the window and illuminated a branch. It's leaf held a bud which would one day bloom to grow into the fruit that norishes more than just the soul.
She hugged me goodbye, and I began to cry.
Being the messenger is more than a job. It's a gift when the message is recieved.
The gift of the lemon tree has so much signaficance to see.
Categories: Penning at 3AM, Experiences, Short Stories-Realistic Fiction
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