A piece of fruit and a kiss on the head. Grandma Sophie stooped and smiled.
A single farewell - five tiny cherries. A growing crop from too many passions.
A banana for Will. May had an apple, Judith a plum. For Frank and George? A pear and a peach. Sophie sowed fruits and kisses. One of both. Each. But she wouldn’t see her seedlings grow.
“Please be good,” she begged as she blew away, never to be seen again.
Then Grandpa Hymie cut his shirt, sat on a stool and wept for a week. They do that in Jewish homes when someone passes.
“What happened?”, asked Abe, his friend next door.
“My love and trust died on Tuesday. Sophie stole them both. I didn’t mind the kissing and sharing. But she should have asked me first!”
(Copyright, Natalie Irene Wood – 08 October 2012)