text and images britt-arnhild
Many, many years ago one of her forefathers found a strange seed in a bag of coffee beans. In the garden shed he picked up an old pot, filled it with rich soil from the garden, planted the seed, watered it, and waited, waited, waited.
The seed sprouted, it grew. First a tiny little leaf, then one more, and one more. The first couple of years he kept the pot inside, in the kitchen window sill. He had to change to a bigger pot a few times, and after a while he recognized the plant. It was an apple tree.
One summer he dig a hole in the garden, and planted the tiny little tree. The whole family watched. In awe.
As the years went by the tree grew and bore fruit. A lot of fruit. Sweet apples. More than the family could use.
The story about the alien seed in the middle of the coffee beans followed the family. Was told from generation to generation.
Sixty years ago, on a day in August, just when the first apple ripened, a little girl was born. She grew up with the apple tree. Slept her afternoon naps in its shade, had a swing hanging from the branches, made apple blossom perfume for her dolls, then apple pie and apple jam with her mother and sister. The little girl became a woman, and left the little house and its apple tree. But she returned every summer. First alone, then with her own growing family.
The apple tree was the first thing she looked for when she ran down the steep hill from the main road.
As the years passed by the apple tree bore fewer and fewer apples. The family tended the tree with love, and the tree kept on giving fruits for a few years. But one spring there were no green leaves, and during a heavy storm the tree let go of several of her branches. The family was afraid it would fall down over the house, and one sad day it had to be cut down.
The apple tree became history.
The woman missed the tree and she missed the apples. She planned to buy a new tree. But years passed, and it came to nothing.
Then, one year, she invited a group of friends to celebrate her 60th birthday. None of these friends had seen the little house down the hill, the garden which used to have an apple tree. She decided tocelebrate her party in her childhood garden. The steep garden which ran down towards the fjord and the stony beach.
Her friends had heard of this place for many years. But they had never heard of the apple tree. They had no idea what the garden looked like, but since they knew there had to be a garden surrounding the house, and since they wanted to give the woman a birthday gift which would last...
......they decided to buy the woman an apple tree.
Now there is a new tree in the garden.
And a new family tale to tell.
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A true tale inspired by the birthday party I took part in on Saturday. And the apple tree I bought for the birthday girl.
