The Lemon Tree
When he was 3 years old, my grandson was fascinated by lemons. The Lemon Tree was his favorite song. My art studio in California boasted a flourishing lemon tree in the front yard, which he loved to visit.
As I waited for him to arrive, I was delighted to see that the lemon tree was heavy with fruit.
That morning, however, the lemons had all vanished. I rushed to the grocery store (Safeway had earned its name!), bought all the lemons I could hold, and with gentle thread sewed them onto the lemon tree.
Very happy 3 year old. Relieved grandparent. Problem solved.
I wish I could solve your problems, my friends, with love and lemons. But the problems today are much larger and the threads of love not weighty enough to resolve the issues that greed and hatred have sown. The tension between sweet fragrance and sharp taste evaporates under the threat of a species at war with itself.
The enemy is not other nations, other religions, other cultures. We are the enemy. There appears to be no sensible, safe way out of a dilemma of our own making. No vandal stole from us. We are both culprit and victim.
Do tell me that we have the resolve, the common sense, to find some common threads of understanding. I would gladly eat a raw lemon in gratitude.
c. Corinne Whitaker 2026 and always
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copyright 2026 Corinne Whitaker
