Monday, April 14, 2014


For my 4-year-old granddaughter the world is a wonderful place filled with treasures. She has a little pink tricycle she calls her scooter. At the back there is a small tray — the trunk. Whenever we go to the park, the short journey is stretched by frequent stops to investigate a treasure.

The crabapple tree in front of my home is the source of many treasures. In the spring, the tree is covered with small, pink flowers attracting dozens of bumblebees bees at any one time. She stops, I hold her high and she picks the pretty, little flowers. Treasures.

The flowers disappear, leaving the ground littered with pink petals, more treasures. Soon little green apples replace the flowers and grown in size and number throughout the summer. By fall the boughs hang low with the weight of the fruit. The tree emits a low, steady hum, the result of hundreds of yellow jackets attracted by the fragrant, juice-filled fruit.

My granddaughter will stop her scooter and I will hold her high in order to pick the biggest, roundest, reddest apples. The ones undamaged by the wasps. She is careful not to bother the buzzing, yellow and black striped insects which appear to understand that we are not a threat. There are enough apples, enough treasures, for all.

Of course, a crabapple tree is not the only treasure to be found. I have two, small, smooth, flat, oval stones discovered by Fiona. They too are treasures and she gave them to me. I treasure them. I will make one into a broach, encircling it with a decorative band of silver. It will be a treasure for all forever.

What I find amazing, startling, even a little sad, is that as we grow older, as we mature, we don't see more treasures in our world but less. Fiona has opened my eyes to the treasures in my world and for this I thank her. I believe I can say, and most would agree, Fiona herself is a little treasure.

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