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TITLE: Apple tree
By dawn estrada
10/10/05
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Half past a broken heart and a sleepless night I wonder down the stairs to get a drink of water. I fumble to the counter and flip on the light, the bulb burns out and I laugh out loud and wonder what else is new? Nothing works around here. I glance out the window as the sirens sound nearby; I see that apple tree that John and I bought when we first got married. Like my barren life that tree has not produced any fruit. The man said in one year you ought to get at least a couple of buds and then look out you won’t know what to do with all those apples. John and I used to talk about what we would do with our apples, I would make apple pie and he would make candy apples and sketch a design on the candy shell and we would give them away for Christmas. That man must have lied and I know what he said just like John must have lied because I was standing right there when he said “Till death do us part” but where are my apples? Where is John? God only knows he’s been gone almost a year and the divorce is nearly final. I wonder what went wrong as the rain starts to fall. Was the soil not good or right? Was I not a good wife? Did I not water enough or too much? Did I ask too much or not respect enough? Was the weather to blame or some disease from afar? Was there to much stress or did some secret sin infect our marriage. The Lord only knows and I’ve drunk my water down. The rain is falling harder now and there is a damp chill in the house. Next month I’ll move out and that tree will be someone else’s problem. I look at the tree one more time,”Lord I am tired of hurting and not bearing fruit, where was the problem with me or him?” Tears fall. I don’t even cry out loud anymore. I turn and go upstairs and fall into my bed. The darkness falls like the rain and sleep overcomes me.

I wake to the loud buzzing sound and over I roll. Off goes the alarm, “six-thirty already?” To the shower now, last night was just a dream. What a beautiful spring day I can hear the birds singing and the sun streaming through the broken blinds. Dressed and ready for the day the realtor is coming at noon and I must clean up this mess. Down the stairs I go unusually cheerful given my circumstances. I decide to make breakfast for once instead of toast. I get the juice poured and the eggs cooked. I set my place at the table and sit down. I say a prayer of blessing and look up out my window. The sun is shining and something catches my eye. I move to the window and to my astonishment I see tiny little buds all over my tree. I run outside and look up “that tree isn’t dead it was just dormant. I’m finally going to have apples!” I can’t stop crying and laughing at the same time and for some reason I feel hope again. If God can make this tree come back to life maybe he can do that for me as well. In my mind I wonder what John would say if he saw this tree.

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