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Fruit of Tears

The Origins of the Fruit Of Tears

By LEFPublished 11 months ago 5 min read

On a lonely farm out in the country, lived a humble farmer and his children. His land had been passed down for 30 generations, safeguarding the precious fruit of the sacred trees from the world around them. The farm at first glance seems to be nothing more than an unassuming small family farm, with a variety of vegetables, animals and an orchard. If you stood at the edge of their farm, off on the horizon you could see the city was starting to grow, expanding in every direction, the new buildings towering over the once humble farmlands. However, if you walked half-an-acre past the old barn you would come upon a garden surrounded by an old stone wall, inside grew about a dozen tress with beautiful benches to sit and enjoy the space.

One day the famer’s youngest daughter, who was no more than four years old was sitting in the garden playing with her doll, when her father came to collect her for dinner. She was a curious child, “daddy why are these trees so important?” He scooped her up off the ground and sat her on the bench, removed one of the fruits off a tree and handed it to her to eat. Her eyes lit up as they’re not allowed to eat the fruit of these trees, she took one bite of the sweet fruit and her heart ignited with joy. All the happiness in the world was in those two bites she had taken, then suddenly she felt despair. Her entire world felt overcome with sadness as she realized truly horrible things existed in the world, she was unexpectedly aware of her own mortality and as she gazed at her father’s sun worn face, she was painfully reminded his time on earth would end sooner then she would ever be ready. Her heart broke into what felt like a million pieces as her tears started to roll down her red rosy cheeks.

Cuddling into her dad’s chest, he allows her cry for a few minutes before he begins to tell her why these fruits are so extraordinary.

Nearly 900 years ago our ancestors were gifted this land by the emperor himself for valor while in combat. Jun was a young warrior who fought fiercely alongside the emperor’s imperial guard, together they had conquered all the lands around us, expanding their empire into the great dynasty in history. When Jun was bestowed this land, he was ready to put down his sword to start a peaceful life of farming and he was ready to start a family of his own. The long brutal war was rough equally on his body and soul, watching in despair as everyone around him suffered. Jun longed for peace to mend what the war had ravaged.

He started to clear the new land of the trees to make space for his fields, he came upon a young woman he had never met before. She was weeping under a tree from a broken heart when he had come upon her, startling her. She stood frighted with tears rolling down her beautiful face. Jun wanted to comfort her, so he held out his hands to hers’ and asked why she was so sad? The young women’s name was Layla, she had explained that her family owned this land but during the war her father, mother and brother were all killed defending their home from savage invaders. They had hidden her among the trees for her safety, when she emerged from the grove her home was destroyed, burned down to the ground and her family was gone. Jun knew he could not heal her pain, though he was not the man responsible, he had done the same to many families in the name of honor. He made a promise that day to Layla, he would keep her safe from harm and protect her from that day forward. Wanting to heal her wounded heart he built a garden around the grove that would keep her safe during war, building a stone wall from the rubble of her old home. The garden became her sanctuary where Layla could leave her burdens with the trees. She spent every morning with the trees crying for her lost family, her tears were absorbed by the tree as they tried to heal her pain.

After a few years, Jun and Layla started to heal from the war, they worked together to build the farm as they started a family together. Layla was happy being Jun’s wife, but her heart never fully healed from her loss. When their son was born Layla was overjoyed with excitement but without her parents to share the experience it felt like something was missing. Layla brought the baby into the garden to share her joys with the trees. Layla and Jun welcome more children as they watched their family grow the pain in Layla’s heart began to heal.

Once again, war broke out as the people started to revolt against the emperor, Jun was called to the service of the imperial guard to ensure the royal family was protected. The fighting didn’t last long but no matter the length of a battle, it is never without causalities. Jun never returned home; he was given an imperial guards funeral with all the honors for he had sacrificed his life to save the emperors son. Layla was given much wealth as to compensate for her loss but nothing in the world could replace Jun. Her heart once again broken by war she retreated to her garden weeping into the trees. She cried for 40 days straight flooding the grounds with her tears as her spirit left her body. Her son now a grown man had her buried with his father in the walled garden.

“These very benches we sit upon were built to mark their final resting spot,” the famer said as he taps on the bench with a proud look upon his face. The little girl overcome with emotion looks underneath as if trying to catch a peek at the couple.

The next year the trees began to bear fruit in the shape of Layla’s tears, each bite is filled with all the happiness she experiences and all the pain she had to suffer through. Each bite of these sacred fruits reminds us of all the reason we cry, sometimes our tears are an expression of the joy we feel and sometimes they’re manifestation of our pain. They’re a reminder of the consequences of war and the life of those that survived when the fighting stops.

We have cultivated our orchards from these very fruits but only these sacred trees grow with Layla’s soul, this is why they are so precious.


About the Creator


endless stories swirl in my head fueled by coffee!

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