We all know the saying “comparing apples to oranges” but what about “apples to pears?” I’m not talking about just any kind of pear but native pears – the ugly, speckled ones that despite their looks are sweet and delicious.
Surprisingly, a lot of the older homesteads in Oklahoma still have these pear trees growing in their yards, pastures and orchards. Because it was such a hardy little tree, many settlers after they established their roots planted these pear trees as a source of food for their families. Though these pears may be oddly shaped with brown speckles, these hardy trees were quite productive and could help feed a family with its bounty.
This past week I had the privilege of going to a friend’s home and picking a basket full of these yummy pears which I shared with a few coworkers and a friend who made pear bread out of them and then shared it with the police department. Yum!
Picking fresh pears took me back to my childhood when I would get off the Checotah school bus and walk down the road to our little orchard. This little orchard had about ten fruit trees – from apple to apricot to my favorite, pears. I would pick a shirttail full of those pears and would eat them until I got a bellyache. The pear’s skin was a little thicker but the inside was so crisp and sweet. There’s nothing like the fruit that is ripened and eating right off the tree or vine. It is so good!
As I was picking the pears off my friend’s tree I couldn’t help but notice how much the fruit weighed down the branches. Many of the branches were bow down so low, barely being able to hold the fruit of their labor. A couple smaller branches had even broken and couldn’t contain the heavy weight any longer. Some fruit had ripened enough to fall to the ground by itself, while other pears were still in clusters waiting to be picked.
Seeing that old tree made me realize how similar we are. We both have old roots that run deep in this Oklahoma soil. Just like that pear tree, I was planted here when my grandparents, Ray and Eloise Belyeu, bought their farms on Tiger Mountain in the 1960’s. Then my parents decided that they wanted to raise their children on a farm too instead of in OKC. So they uprooted us from Yukon and planted us here in Checotah to bear fruit for generations.
I hope we have proven that we are just as hardy as those little pear trees and that our roots run deep in fertile soil. I pray that we are resourceful for our families and productive in our communities. Most of all, I pray that we are sweet, even if we aren’t the prettiest pick out there. Sweetness goes a long way and I’m thankful that these little pears reminded me of that reality.
