The Golden Pear

"So big and juicy, you eat them with a spoon!"

"The sweet flavor, buttery texture, and extreme juiciness of these pears are what make them so delicious. The gold foil lets you know you're about to enjoy something amazing."

I held the large gold foil-wrapped pear in my hand as I read the attractive sign heralding the beautiful holiday display of fruit.

Those well-chosen words made my mouth water. I had never seen such a large pear and I desperately ached and hungered to sink my teeth into this specific piece of fruit. The young lady standing behind the booth approached me and kindly asked "Will that be all for you?" I hesitated as I placed the beautiful golden pear back on the table. "I'm sorry, I was just observing how lovely that these pears are wrapped and displayed." The truth was that $8.00 USD was just more than I could afford to pay for a pear. I was pregnant and struggling to survive on my own.

She shot me a curious smile as she observed that I was (a very round and plump) nine months pregnant. "When is the baby due?" She politely asked. I cautiously placed my hand on my stomach and replied " Absolutely any moment now." As if she could read my mind and knew how much that I utterly yearned for that pear, she handed it back to me with a bright, comforting beam. "A gift for the baby!" she grinned as she handed me a sparkling gold-colored spoon to eat it with.

Amongst the large crowd at the holiday farmer's fair, I found a quiet and private seat beneath a tree that was twinkling and scintillating with clear lights strung from limb to limb. I held the beautifully wrapped pear in my hand and observed it for a moment longer before slowly peeling away the gold foil. I notice that she had tied a tag to the pear that read "You are special". I was surprised at how soft that it was and how the golden spoon so easily melted right through it. The sweet juice drizzled over my lips, so soft on my tongue, grainy like a sugary sand that dissolved quickly in my mouth. I leaned back against the tree and closed my eyes. I had never tasted anything so fresh, pure, and delectable.

I hurried back to the pear booth and asked the attending young lady "What kind of pear is this?"-"These are Comice pears" she proudly replied. They were first propagated in France in 1856. These exquisite pears were a favorite of royalty, earning the nickname "The Fruit of Kings." My grandparents brought back one tiny, little pear sapling from France. Only a few regions in the world have the right climate and soil combination to produce this incredible fruit. Luckily, one of those places is right here in our hometown. "You mean that these delicious pears have been growing right here in town and I never had one before now!" I was amazed and awestricken.

With a slight and sneaky smile, she added "To be perfectly honest, my grandparents smuggled that little sapling back home with them after their honeymoon in France." she let out the most joyful and tickled laugh that I had heard in a long time. Her satisfaction and pride warmed my heart. "They're both gone now, these pears are all that I have left of them." Her voice grew low and humble. "I know that the sign says $8.00 but honestly, I just keep it there to show me who truly needs a little bit of love and kindness in their life. It's amazing how many lives have been changed by a simple, golden pear."

I dropped my eyes as my heart sank deep into the pit of my stomach. I so desperately needed a golden pear that night. Money had been scarce and food on the table had been even less plentiful. I was all alone and hadn't seen a kind and friendly face in what felt like ages. I felt warm tears trickle down my cheek amidst the cool night air.

The very next day my beautiful daughter came into the world. I named her Comice (Kam-eese) not so much after the pear, but for what that entire experience had meant to me. Later that day my nurse came walking into the room toting a large basket filled with pears wrapped in gold foil. The card read "There's only one thing sweeter than these pears....your newborn baby. Congratulations. My eyes filled with tears because until now I had felt like I was all alone and like nobody else in the whole world cared. "Wait, there's one more thing!" the nurse declared as she walked back in with a small flower pot housing one tiny, little pear sapling.

I never found out who that beautiful young lady was who offered me the very first golden pear. In fact, I never saw her again. I often wondered if she had been my own personal ghost of Christmas. A symbol of hope and purpose for me to cling onto during my most desperate times.

Over the years that little sapling flourished and grew into a 20-foot tall treasure. I watched Comice grow up with that tree and every year we enjoyed its sweet, savory fruit together.

My daughter grew up learning just how unfair and unchivalrous that the world can truly be at times. Every year she would gather our revered pears and carefully wrap each one in beautiful gold foil. She walked all around town giving them to the homeless and less fortunate it was her own special way of making a difference. Each pear had a handwritten message attached to it "You are special."

In 1999 a tornado swept through the town and took away nearly everything that we owned, except for the pear tree. Today it still stands tall as a symbol of hope and love offering its shelter and fruit to anyone who may need it.

"It's amazing how many lives have been changed by a simple, golden pear."