The Golden Sapling

She would not trade it for anything - no treasure could equate to the intrinsic value of this tree. The fruit it grew to bear was her gold. The sweet, ripe deliciousness alone was something that epicurean feasts were made of. But that was not it.

Do you believe in magic? It was not just the feeling transmitted when consuming the delightful fruit - as tantalizing as Snow White's apple, only delivering quite the opposite.

In Ancient China, the pear symbolizes immortality and prosperity. The wild pear promising eternal life seemed fitting. For that is how she felt when she bit into that yellow flesh - like she could do anything, be anything - and carry on ---forever. She would have to wait and see about this.

If you were lucky, Janine baked her infamous pie she called Pyrus Pie. With its mesmerizing filling - not just a distinct sweetness but indescribable texture - it not only filled your stomach but your soul somehow. A subsequent bliss exuded by her guests at the summer night's table in the candlelit garden. It was beyond a suffonsified sensation; that content caused by the blood rushing to one's stomach. She loved to watch her friends' faces - the bliss, but also bewilderment. Janine the witch --- a good witch, of course.

In the spring, the blossoms smelled like heaven. If you could bottle that scent, you could make a fortune. When there was a breeze, the scent would carry across the landscape into the yards across the way in her little rural neighborhood. She reveled in the joy of sharing and also the mystery of where the aroma had come from. Like bird watchers trying to identify a species. Which blossom spewed this exquisite scent?

The tree - it was a gift initially. A gift to treasure, obviously. It had come as a small sapling in a neat muslin bag with a personalized copper tag attached. A decade ago.

What else can you give someone when they suffer such a loss? Most people, just don't know what to say. When words escape you, it's better not to say anything. Go with that, she would think. Don't say anything. She was in a much better place now, because she had compassion for people who were just trying to console her.

When she lost her baby. It was trees that she looked to - the tops of them, reaching skywards. Not being religious in any way, Janine couldn't make sense at first of why. She just found comfort in nature. That made sense. Through the seasons - beginning with the late fall - the healing process began - she observed the trees through all of their phases with great intensity; feeling their lifespans and connectivity to the earth. The boughs and branches, bare or full reaching as if to spirits beyond. The little buds emerging in the spring brought hope, not sorrow... Rebirth.

When the small sweet little tree arrived, she knew immediately who it was from. Her dear friend of nearly two decades, Elanor. What a rock, a lifeline. Never preached or instigated. Solid. Rooted. Clear-headed. Calm.

Their relationship blossomed over the years. They had met a the botanical gardens admiring Gardenias and butterflies, with very few words exchanged. An immediate comfort level of not having to say many things. They were both ok with silence.

The women remained in touch over the years, despite Elanor moving abroad; a free spirit. It didn't affect their bond at all.

When the tree came, it was everything to Janine. Everything. Poetic. A relief after so many angry moments, fighting in silence with those who couldn't stop talking and trying to fix her. Elanor would not try to fix. She just was there. More there than anyone ever had been.

Over time the tree grew and her gaping wound began to heal the way they said it would. Time heals everything. She used to resent that. Because the biggest fear in loss is forgetting that person as time goes on. And yet, you don't want to be reminded of the sadness either. But the tree was neutral. She could look at it in the moment, feeling the loss and be ok. She could also take joy when the blossoms poked through the first and every spring thereafter. The cycles of life were represented so beautifully.

But, it was really the fruit that grew that was something else. Little nuggets. The special shade of yellow gleamed. The size of the fruit was larger than she ever expected too. And it's not like she did anything special. She didn't have the proverbial "green thumb" - or some magic fertilizer. It grew like it didn't care where or how. Over time, she felt a bond with it - like there was a symbiotic relationship. She needed it and it needed her.

One day, Elanor showed up at her door. This wasn't like her, to show up unannounced. Besides, to Janine's knowledge, she was in Peru, working on her thesis in the Rain Forests.

"Hi, friend." Elanor smiled with genuine warmth beyond most humans.

"Why hi! Oh my gosh! It's you - what....???? Come in my dear, come in..." Judith exclaimed, embracing her despite the surprise mixed with confusion.

Elanor had a tiny suitcase with her. Apologizing for barging in on her, she went on to explain immediately the reason behind her impromptu visit.

She had to come at once upon discovering that the tree she had given Janine all these years ago - would be of immense help. "But could I just see it before I go on?"

The tree was enormous now, reaching towards the top of Janine's three-story Victorian.

"What a morning view you must have now! AND that smell, wow - you must sleep like an angel!"

"Yes, I hadn't made that connection, but I do. I sleep very, very well."

Janine turned to her friend then, looking more intense - almost sad.

"I'm not well. That's why I'm here." She always could get to the point.

"You need to be here," Janine said. You need the Golden Pyrus. She can heal anything. Looking into her friend's eyes, she knew she did not have to say anymore.

"I discovered a sap in the rainforests in Peru. We gave it to the sick and it cured them. But not me. Not me." This was hard to say for Elanor, but she continued, "I almost died. So, I took the meds they gave me, and I came straight here. This tree, THIS Pyrus...." Before she could finish, Janine had put a bowl of golden pears in front of her.

"Eat."